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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The subway hummed beneath him, rocking softly, the kind of motion that lulls you into thinking too much, Steve was sitting, one arm resting on his camera bag, his shirt sleeves rolled up.

The shoot had gone late, and his head was still full of lights, flashes, camera clicks, and the quiet way Bucky had smiled after every flash.

He caught his reflection in the window, scruffy beard, hair curling a bit at the ends, glasses slipping down his nose, he looked tired and messy!! Not exactly the image of the man people sometimes mistook for the ones he photographed.

But he was tall, broad-shouldered under his simple plaid shirt, the kind of handsome that drew attention even when he tried to disappear into the background, the kind of handsome that made people’s eyes linger a second too long, which was exactly what was happening now.

Across from him, a woman was staring, not rudely, just curious, a half-smile tugging at her mouth, her gaze flicked over him, the rolled sleeves, the beard, the worn leather strap of his bag.

Steve caught it, he blinked once and then offered a polite smile back, she raised an eyebrow “Rough day at work?”

He chuckled “Something like that!!”

“You look like the kind of guy who makes other people look good for a living” she said which made him grin, small but real.

“You could say that”

It was harmless, normal, exactly the kind of light human exchange he needed to ground himself, he leaned back, trying to match her ease, to push away the lingering warmth that still pulsed in his mind, warmth that had nothing to do with her.

But then the train slowed, the doors opened, and there it was!!

A massive movie poster across the platform, Bucky Barnes in full cinematic glory, jaw sharp, eyes dark, that same intensity Steve had seen through his lens earlier that day, the tagline read“He never looked away”

Steve’s throat tightened, the universe had a sense of humor! The woman followed his gaze and chuckled softly “He’s everywhere lately, huh? Gorgeous, though”

Steve’s voice was rough “Yeah… Guess he is”

He didn’t even try to flirt after that.

By the time he made it home, the city had gone quiet, he tossed his keys on the counter, turned on the lamp, and sank in front of his computer, turned it on, he loaded everything and his heart was skipping beat after beat as the shoot folder opened hundreds of thumbnails of Bucky in every possible frame: laughing, buttoning his shirt, leaning on a stool, standing, leaning on a wall, sitting down, behind a table, watching the lens like it was telling him secrets.

Steve started editing, methodical at first, adjusted exposure, balanced the colours and shadows, fixed the lighting and contrast, cropped a little, you know, the usual.

Then he opened one full-screen… Bucky mid-motion, shirt half-buttoned, eyes unfocused but soft the kind of accidental perfection that couldn’t be staged.

Steve zoomed in, too close, probably but he couldn’t help it, his fingers scrolled slowly, tracing the contours of a face he’d studied too long already, the faint lines at the corners of Bucky’s eyes, the way the light curved against his cheekbone… Zoom in… The small scar near his lip… Zoom out… Breathe… Move on…

Another frame, Bucky was laughing now, his head tilted back, Steve felt something twist low in his chest, he leaned in, studying the curve of his throat, the glint of the Cartier watch around his wrist, the ring catching fire under the studio lights… Zoom in… Again… And again… Until the screen was filled with nothing but Bucky’s hand, the curves of his veins, the perfectly shaped beautiful fingers, the ring perfectly framed, so elegant and strong… Steve’s own reflection ghosted faintly in the screen, he froze!! For a long time, he didn’t move.

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the computer fan, he took his glasses off, pinched the bridge of his nose, and laughed quietly, low and tired “Get a grip, Rogers!! Just do your damn job!!”

He tossed the glasses onto the desk, stared at the blurred screen for a moment, he switched to another shot, and without his glasses, Bucky’s face was just a soft outline, maybe that was easier for Steve, but it wasn’t!! Even unfocused and blurred, Bucky still looked at the screen, that seemed like he was looking at him.

He exhaled shakily, dragging his hands down his face “It’s just editing, Steve, you’ve done this a thousand times!!”

He leaned back sinking into his chair, eyes closed and still, the images burned behind his lids, Bucky’s mouth, Bucky’s eyes, Bucky’s hands, Bucky’s laugh, the soft focus of his gaze, like he’d been looking through the lens, straight at him…

Steve didn’t know if it was exhaustion or obsession, but either way, he was in deep and for someone who had spent all day pretending to see through the viewfinder and not feel, he had failed spectacularly and he knew he was in a big trouble.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Steve tried to start over, fresh coffee, a shower, clean clothes you know the whole ritual of pretending you’ve got your life together and your mind is not completely filled with thoughts about your favourite celebrity.

He told himself that yesterday had been a one-time slip, a momentary lapse in professionalism, he was fine now he was focused and grounded, the photoshoot was done and Bucky Barnes was just another client.

He told himself that twice before leaving his apartment and by the time he was halfway through his errands, he almost believed it.

The grocery store was quiet, just the low sound of freezers and ac and the sound of carts and voices of people shopping, Steve filled his basket mechanically, bread, milk, some fruit, coffee beans, simple, necessary things, he stood in line behind a woman with a toddler who was fixated on a candy bar, and he felt almost normal for a second… Until he looked up, and there he was: Bucky!! Right there on the magazine rack, like the world had been waiting to ambush him.

The GQ cover caught his eye first, Bucky in a navy tux, one button undone, a watch glinting faintly on his wrist, the headline read, “Bucky Barnes on Time, Love, and Learning to Stay Still” Steve’s mouth went dry…Then he saw Vanity Fair, then Esquire, then Men’s Health, where Bucky’s shirt was gone entirely, replaced with sweat, muscles, and a caption that read, “How Bucky Barnes Keeps It Real”… Steve stared for a solid three seconds before realizing he was doing it, he grabbed a random pack of gum just to have something to focus on, the cashier noticed, of course. “You like him, huh?” she asked with a grin “Everyone’s obsessed with this guy lately”

Steve coughed, startled “Oh-uh... Yeah, he’s… he’s good at what he does!!”

“‘Good’?” she laughed, scanning his coffee “Honey, he’s a masterpiece!! Have you seen his last movie?”

Steve smiled weakly “Once or twice!!”

He left with his groceries, cheeks burning, the cashier’s voice echoing in his ears: A masterpiece.

Outside, the day had that hazy, gray light that made everything look washed out, Steve shoved his earbuds in and kept walking, the chill biting through his sleeves, he was scrolling through his phone reading the news, pretending not to think, when suddenly, a video autoplayed at full volume: "Bucky Barnes opens up about vulnerability, fame, and finding peace!" Steve tripped as he almost reached the bus stop, thumb slipping, but not before Bucky’s voice filled the air, that familiar, warm, slightly raspy tone “You can’t fake honesty” he was saying, smiling at the interviewer “If the camera doesn’t see the truth, it won’t mean anything!!” Steve froze mid-step, pulse jumping, the same voice that had said, “Where do you want me?” across the studio just yesterday, the same voice that had laughed when the lights flickered… A teenage girl waiting for the bus gasped “Oh my God, I love him!” she said, turning to Steve as if he’d agree “He’s like… perfect, right?”

He managed a strangled laugh “Guess so”, he turned the volume down, pretending to scroll, but his heart was still racing but he was trying to breathe like a normal person, and across the street, of course, was a massive billboard, It was Winter Sun II, Bucky’s upcoming movie, Bucky, windswept and tragic, his expression caught somewhere between heartbreak and defiance, the caption: “This time, he’s not walking away” Steve’s breath shook, he told himself not to look, then did anyway.

It was the eyes, always the eyes, that impossible blue-gray, like the color didn’t know whether it wanted to be gentle or dangerous, he had seen that same look through his lens, just before snapping the last shot of the Cartier session, the one where Bucky had paused mid-motion, button half-fastened, gaze slightly off-camera unguarded and human, Steve couldn’t believe it was his, something that belongs to him and didn’t think he was going to delete it.

The bus arrived, and Steve climbed in as soon as the doors were open, finding a seat by the window, the city slid past, reflections ghosting across the glass, his own face, faint and transparent, overlapping the giant billboard outside, he huffed a laugh “Yeah” he muttered under his breath “Real funny”

By the time he got home, it was dusk, the light in his apartment was soft and golden, his plants casting long shadows on the wall, he cooked some pasta but barely ate half, his brain was too noisy!!

He turned on the TV for background noise… Click… Sports… Click... Talk show… Click- his heart skipped a beat… "Coming up next: the critically acclaimed 'Winter Sun,' starring Bucky Barnes!" he sighed “You’ve gotta be kidding me” He tried to change the channel really but his thumb hesitated on the remote and then the movie started… The opening shot, Bucky’s character standing in a field at sunrise, shirt wrinkled, eyes haunted, his voice-over soft and pained: “Sometimes, you can’t run from what follows you” Steve’s throat went dry for what seems to be the millionth time since he met Bucky in person, he watched all of it, every minute like he hasn’t memorized it all already, the heartbreak, the quiet defiance, the way Bucky’s expression shined, raw and open, like something too real to fake, Steve sat there in the dark, heart aching for reasons he refused to name and by the time the credits rolled, his dinner was cold, his apartment was silent, his mind on the other hand? Not.

He got up slowly mumbling something inaudible turned off the TV, and stood there for a moment surrounded by silence…

When he finally crawled into bed, it was nearly midnight, he laid there staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about the posters, or the laugh in that interview, or the way Bucky had looked right at the camera like he could see him through it, he reached for his phone , just to set an alarm, and saw a missed call notification, and a voicemail from Amélie Cartier Editorial, he frowned, unlocking his phone and pressing play “Hi, Steve” her voice said cheerfully “Hope you’re well, we’re on a tight timeline for the campaign, so if you could please go through the proofs and select the top images by tomorrow morning, we’ll handle the final edit on our side!! Thanks again, they look amazing!! Can’t wait to see which ones you pick!! Have a good night!!” Steve stared at the dark ceiling, phone still against his ear… A quiet, humorless laugh escaped him, of course!! of course!! The universe wasn’t just laughing anymore, it was in on the joke… He tossed the phone onto the nightstand, rolled onto his back, and whispered into the dark, half a smile pulling at his lips.

“Sure, why not!! Let’s look at him again!!”

Chapter Text

The morning stared slow, Steve got out of the bed, turning off the alarm ignoring all the notifications on his phone, he took a quick shower, put on the first outfit he could think of, ordered a coffee to go online and took off to work, you know, the usual!! But the second he stepped into the studio, the world seemed to speed up around him, his assistant was practically buzzing in place by the reception desk, coffee in hand, cheeks flushed from the excitement of holding onto a secret too good to keep.

“Boss, you’re trending!!!” she blurted out the moment she spotted him her voice pitched up at the end, like she’s announcing a world event.

Steve blinked, still halfway between sleep and caffeine “What?”

“You!!! The photos!!! Cartier!!!.” She shoved her phone in his face before he could set his bag down, and there it was a flood of notifications, his name tagged, reposted, quoted, liked and of course headlines like “Bucky Barnes photoshoot breaks the internet” and “Photographer behind the lens makes magic” scroll past in a blur.

He took the phone carefully, squinting at the screen, the photos he shot the ones he had spent hours editing through clenched teeth and an aching chest are everywhere!! Bucky’s face, sharp and soft all at once, that look he caught between poses, the slight smile that hadn’t been meant for the camera.

“Jesus” Steve muttered under his breath…

“I know!!!” she gushed, practically bouncing “You’re trending on multiple platforms!!! Everyone is talking about the lighting, the composition, the intimacy and, well… some are talking about you too!!! Like, in a thirsty way!!”

Steve shot her a look, but she only grinned wider.

“Your Instagram blew up overnight, I know you’re not into social media and barely check, but dude, over 4 thousands new followers in less than twelve hours!!! Cartier tagged you in their campaign!! Dude, you broke the internet”

He ran a hand through his hair, pretending to be calm while his stomach flipped, trending because of Bucky Barnes… Of course.

The day didn’t slow down after that, the noise followed him... He couldn’t shut his brain down!! Even at the gym with Sam.

Sam was the kind of guy who narrates the gym like it was a live comedy special, so Steve tried to focus on his friend’s commentary rather than the whirlwind in his head... But then Sam’s voice dropped into a whistle.

“Holy!!! Okay!! Do not look now, but-” Steve, of course, looked and froze... By the weights, there was a guy who looked dangerously close to Bucky, not exactly, the jaw was a little sharper, the hair was a bit shorter  but there was enough there to make Steve’s heart stutter for a second too long… The guy was sweating through a black tank top, his head tilted down as he adjusted the plates on a barbell, and it was insane how similar he looked like Bucky… Sam elbowed him “Man, tell me I’m not crazy!! That’s a Bucky Barnes dupe if I ever saw one” Steve tried to scoff, to shake it off, but his gaze lingered anyway… Too long… Long enough for Sam to notice “Jesus, Rogers, stop staring like you’re about to ask for his number” Sam muttered, shaking his head…

“I’m not” Steve lied, jaw tightening… But his eyes betrayed him, tracing the line of the stranger’s shoulders, the way the light caught the sweat on his skin, and when the guy walked past, Steve caught a glimpse of the name scrawled on the water bottle sitting on the bench: Sebastian.

 “Sebastian!” Sam read out loud “Man!! He really does look like a Sebastian, I mean men like that should only be Sebastian or Bucky!”

“Shut up” Steve muttered, yanking his towel off the rack a little too roughly, but the thing about jokes was, they keep coming.

Later that night, Steve was sitting on Sam’s couch, beer in hand, trying to unwind while Sam flipped through channels, Sarah was there too, curled up in an armchair, scrolling through her phone with a grin that was a little too knowing.

The trailer break hit in the middle of the game, Sam groaned at the interruption, but Sarah perked up immediately “Oh! Ambush!”

The TV was filled with light and music and then with Bucky’s face, a close-up shot, the kind that would pull you right in, the room seemed to narrow around it and Steve’s chest went tight.

Sarah looked between Steve and the screen, and then grinned “By the way, I saw the articles... Congratulations!!! Everyone’s saying those photos are insane!!”

Sam turned his head slowly, like it’s just dawning on him “Wait… Wait wait wait… You took those photos? The ones people won’t shut up about?”

Steve scratched the back of his neck “It was just a job!!”

Sam threw his arms up “Just a job!! My man photographed Bucky fucking Barnes and didn’t think to mention it!! You know how many people would kill for that gig?”

Sarah laughed “Well, judging by the internet, a lot of them are already in love with the photographer”

Steve flushed, ducking his head “It’s nothing”

But even when the trailer ended, Bucky’s image lingered on the screen in the reflection of the glass, it was like he couldn’t escape it…

Hours later, back in his apartment, Steve gave up pretending and he sank into his couch, laptop balanced on his knees, and he finally opened social media, the notifications were endless, every tag, every comment, every dm…

“Whoever took these photos is in love with him!!”
“You can feel the way he’s looking at him behind the camera!!”
“This isn’t just a photoshoot!! This is a love letter!!”
“The lighting is ridiculous… The eyes…. God!!! This is the most intimate photoshoot in a non sexual way I have ever seen!!!”
“I don’t know who this photographer is but he needs to chill…”
“I want someone to look at me the way the camera looked at Bucky Barnes!! The photographer deserves a raise!!!”

The comments went on and on, words that weren't far from the truth, Steve leaned back, exhaling slowly, letting it wash over him, he told himself it didn’t matter, they didn’t know him, they were just reading into light and shadow and timing…

But they were not wrong, in a way...

The clock on his laptop screen read 1:47 am when the email came in, Cartier Campaign…

He opened it immediately!

Hi Steve,
Congratulations, the campaign launch is going beyond expectations. We would love to post more of your shots over the next few days in our social media accounts. Could you select a few more images and send them by tomorrow? If possible, maybe highlight the products more this time not just the model.
Thanks again.

He let the cursor hover over the reply button but didn’t press it yet, instead, he leaned back, rubbed a hand over his face, took off his glasses, throwing them next to hom on the couch, and let out a low laugh that sounded too much like defeat.

The universe was relentless and it was laughing at him.

Somewhere across the city, Bucky Barnes probably didn’t even remember the way he looked into the camera… But Steve did, Steve remembered everything…

Chapter Text

Steve had photographed more faces than he could count, faces that sold perfume, power, politics and faces so beautiful they almost stopped looking human after a while, smoothed by light, sharpened by expectation, but nothing could have prepared him for this night.

The Met Gala was chaos wrapped in silk, lights glowed, fabric whispered, champagne clinked against glass, it was the kind of night meant to dazzle, distract, and devour, he dreamed of the day he would be assigned at it, but he felt something twist in his gut, and he always trusted his gut… he had told himself a hundred times that this was just another assignment, another name, another check, another portfolio highlight.

And then his assistant had looked up from her tablet that morning and casually said “Barnes is confirmed”

Steve’s head snapped up “Confirmed?”

“Yeah” she said, flipping her screen around to show the lineup “He’s on the guests list, Cartier slot! Oh-” she squinted “He’s walking the carpet with Natasha Romanoff!!” The air in Steve’ chest turned to glass...

He nodded like it didn’t matter “Right... Makes sense… Cartier’s campaign tie-in”

His assistant was still scrolling, oblivious “They’re saying this might confirm the rumors you know, about them dating?” and that was it, one simple sentence that tilted his whole world off its axis, see? His gut was right!

Hours later, he stood behind the barricades of cameras at the museum entrance, his press badge cold against his chest, the marble glowed under the floodlights, celebrities stepped out of cars one after another, glitter, tuxedos, couture so elaborate it looked like armor, he went through the motions automatically, adjusting focus, checking exposure, timing the flashes between other photographers, he knew how to disappear behind the lens, it had always been his way of coping, observe, don’t feel, capture, don’t react.

And then suddenly the atmosphere shifted, it always did when someone big arrived, the murmurs in the crowd, the quick breath before the storm of flashes, Steve heard it before he saw it, the wave of whispers, the swelling noise of fans and journalists and people saying his name.

Bucky Barnes.

Steve raised his camera before he even thought about it, Bucky stepped onto the carpet like the world was made to look at him, a simple yet so elegant velvet black tux, perfectly cut, the fabric hugged him in all the right places, the crisp line of his shoulders, the narrow waist, the hint of muscle underneath, his hair was slicked back, a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead, and of course a watch, two rings, a bracelet and a broche, of course, Cartier, and beside him Natasha Romanoff, stunning in a deep green gown that caught every flash of light like it was made of emerald smoke, the color matched her eyes and made her wavy red hair pop!!

They didn’t hold hands at first and then she laughed at something he said, and their fingers brushed, the cameras went wild and Steve’ chest tightened, he looked through the viewfinder and there they were, framed perfectly, every muscle in his body told him to look away but his hands, steady as always, lifted the camera… Click… the lens did its job, detached, impersonal and hungry but Steve saw everything, the warmth in Bucky’s smile and the ease in his posture, the kind of glow that comes from being touched, from being seen, he swallowed hard and adjusted the angle, took another… Click… and another… Click.

Someone pushed his arm and he barely noticed, his whole world narrowed to that rectangle of light and shadow! Focus, Rogers, he repeated it in his head like a mantra, but his focus wasn’t on the composition anymore, it was on him.

“Steve Rogers?”

He blinked, lowering the camera, the voice was warm and familiar, and then it was there, that voice made real, Bucky stood right in front of him, the lights caught his eyes, blue and soft despite the chaos around them, he had that grin, boyish, crooked, easy and it hit Steve like a punch.

“Hey” Bucky said, hand outstretched “Didn’t think I’d see you here”

Steve’ pulse stuttered. “Uh-yeah… Guess we’re both on duty”

He reached out for the handshake, safe, professional but Bucky didn’t take it, instead, he stepped in and hugged him from behind the barricades, just a quick one, polite for the cameras, maybe, but Steve wasn’t ready for the warmth of it, and for the way Bucky’s hand landed firm on his shoulder, the way he smelled, cologne, linen, faint trace of something metallic and sweet… The world narrowed to that and his heartbeat and the flash of lights.

Then Bucky pulled back, smiling, and Steve had to remind his body to breathe.

“You good?” Bucky asked

“Yeah” Steve lied “Just long night”

Bucky chuckled “Tell me about it”

Then Natasha appeared, luminous, composed, radiant even off-duty “You’re the Cartier photographer, right?” she said, tilting her head “The one who shot Bucky’s campaign?”

“Yes, ma’am” Steve said, voice barely steady.

“They were gorgeous” she said “You made him look like art”

Bucky laughed “Nat, you’re gonna make me blush”

Steve managed a faint smile “He made it easy”

And then Natasha was called away, and Bucky gave him one last look unreadable but warm.

“It was good seeing you Rogers”

And he was gone.

Later, when they were on the red carpet stage again for the press photos, Steve was assigned to capture their official portraits.

Natasha alone first, perfect, polished, easy to shoot, and then Bucky who couldn’t stand still, always half-smiling, half-talking, energy too alive for the stillness of a frame.

“Like this?” Bucky asked, his eyes flicking to Steve’s for confirmation.

“Yeah” Steve said softly “Exactly like that!! Perfect!”

Then together.

Natasha turned into him, Bucky’s hand rested lightly on her waist, something that shouldn’t have hurt, because it wasn’t his business.
But something about the sight, Bucky’s genuine smile, the way his thumb moved easily against the fabric, hit him like a silent, perfect heartbreak.

He took the pictures anyway, because that’s what he did, it was his job, to capture what was beautiful, even when it broke him.

He stepped out for air hours later, the sounds of laughter and music fading behind the museum doors, the city outside was too bright and too loud, his tie hung loose, his camera still heavy around his neck, he leaned against a marble pillar and scrolled through the shots.

They were flawless, every frame was a masterpiece of light, color, Cartier would be thrilled.

But all Steve could see were the in-betweens, the moments between flashes, when Bucky wasn’t posing, when he was just looking, the curve of his mouth softening mid-laugh and the warmth in his gaze as he turned toward someone else.

Steve zoomed in on one shot and then another, and then another, he didn’t even realize his thumb was trembling, it wasn’t jealousy, exactly, it was something quieter, sadder, the ache of wanting to be unseen but still remembered.

He exhaled slowly, set the camera down, and looked up at the city lights, it all felt painfully clear now that no matter how close he got, no matter how many perfect frames he captured there would always be that distance between flash and focus.

And that distance was exactly where Bucky lived.

Few nights later.

The bar was quiet that night, a small place tucked off a side street near Brooklyn Heights, all amber lights and low jazz filling the air.

Steve liked it because no one there cared who he was or who anyone was, people came to unwind, not to talk about work, or campaigns, or Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff.

Or so he thought.

Sam slid a glass towards him with a grin “You look like you need that”

Steve smirked faintly, rubbing at the back of his neck “That obvious?”

“Man, you’ve been walking around like your favorite lens cracked”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head “It’s been a long week”

Sam took a sip of his beer, studying him “Uh-huh! A week that had nothing to do with a certain Met Gala, right?”

Steve froze just a little “You saw the pictures?”

“Everyone saw the pictures” Sam said “Hell, my nephew saw the pictures, the internet is still crying about that one of Bucky and Natasha you know, where they’re looking at each other like they just got engaged?”

Steve looked down at his drink “Yeah, that one”

Sam let out a low whistle “They look good together, man, I’ll give ‘em that, unreal, even!! Some people are just...made for cameras, you know?”

There was no malice in it, just casual observation but it still landed like a knife between Steve’s ribs.

He forced a small nod “Yeah, they are”

The silence stretched a little too long, Sam tilted his head, watching him closely now “Hey” he said quietly “You okay?”

Steve laughed softly, but it came out more like an exhale “Yeah, I’m fine, just- tired that’s all”

“Mm” Sam didn’t buy it “You’ve been tired since that Cartier shoot, man, and now you’re sitting here looking like somebody stole your soul”

That pulled a small laugh out of Steve, and for a second, it almost worked but then Sam leaned in, elbows on the table, voice softer now “Alright” he said after a moment “Out with it”

Steve looked up, frowning slightly “Out with what?”

“Be real with me, Rogers” he said “You got feelings for him, don’t you?”

Steve’s breath hitched and the words landed so plainly, so quietly, that for a moment he couldn’t even pretend to misunderstand, he stared into his glass, the way the light fractured through it “It’s not-” he started, then stopped “I don’t know what it is” Sam didn’t push he just waited, Steve exhaled, long and quiet, like he had been holding it in too long “He’s…” He stopped and tried again “He’s different, Sam”

Sam’s tone softened “Different how?”

“Not like the others” Steve said quietly “I worked with a lot of celebrities, and famous people, he’s not like them, he’s easy to be around, funny and kind in a way you don’t expect from someone that famous, he actually listens when you talk, he remembers little things, makes you feel like-” he hesitated, the next words barely a whisper- “like you matter”

Sam’s brow furrowed, something flickering in his expression, maybe sympathy, recognition “That’s more than just liking somebody’s face, man”

“I know” Steve murmured.

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of conversations and the clink of glass filling the background and then Sam spoke again, lower this time “You think he noticed?”

Steve’s mouth curved into something between a smile and a wince “I hope not”

“Why?”

“Because what would it change?” Steve said “He’s got his life, he’s got… her and I’m just-” He gestured vaguely, shaking his head “The guy who took his picture once”

Sam watched him for a long moment “You know it’s not impossible”

Steve gave a quiet, humorless laugh “Don’t start that”

“I’m serious” Sam said “Man hugged you on that carpet, didn’t he?”

Steve blinked “That doesn’t mean anything”

Sam shrugged “Maybe not or maybe it means just enough to mess you up”

Steve let out a laugh, leaning back in his seat, “This is fucking insane!! I’m sitting here, a grown man, almost 40 talking about having feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even remember what my voice sounds like”

Sam leaned back too, folding his arms “First of all, don’t sell yourself short, you’ve got that whole brooding artist thing going on, women and half the men at my gym would kill for one chance with you” Steve rolled his eyes “Second” Sam continued “it’s not insane, you met someone who made you feel something real, it happens to everybody sooner or later”

“Even if he’s…” Steve stopped, the words catching “Even if it’s not possible?”

Sam nodded slowly “Especially then”

Steve looked down at the table, his voice low “You think it’s a mistake?”

Sam considered that “No, I think it’s human but you gotta know what you’re walking into, Bucky Barnes doesn’t live in our world, his whole life is flashbulbs and noise, if you ever told him how you feel, hell, if he ever looked back, you’d be living under a microscope every shot, every word, every glance turned into a headline”

“I know”

“And if he doesn’t feel the same way” Sam added gently “you’ll still be the one left holding all that weight alone”

Steve let out a breath, long and uneven “That’s the part that scares me, that it’s already too late, and I’m holding it anyway”

Sam nodded, quiet for a moment, “Then let it hurt but don’t let it hollow you out” Steve looked up, meeting his gaze, Sam gave him a small, sad smile “Some people we’re just meant to love from a distance and it doesn’t make it less real” The words settled heavy between them.

Steve swallowed “You ever have that happen?”

Sam chuckled softly “Yeah, once and it didn’t end pretty, but it taught me something”

“What?”

“That sometimes, the best thing you can do for someone you care about is not make them responsible for it”

Steve sat with that for a long time.

They didn’t talk much after that, the conversation faded into comfortable quiet, the kind only old friends could share.

When they left, the city air was cool, the streets half-empty Sam clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder before heading the other way.

“Get some sleep, Rogers, don’t drown in it”

Steve nodded “I’ll try”

But later, when he got home, the silence in his apartment greeted him like it always did, he didn’t turn on the lights, he just sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop the only thing cutting through the dark, he opened the gallery folder again, the same pictures, the same faces, and he whispered, to no one in particular “You’re right, Sam”

He zoomed in one last time on Bucky’s eyes, the soft crease of a smile.

“Doesn’t make it less real”

Chapter Text

For weeks after the Met Gala, Steve lived like a man in recovery, he worked too much, slept too little and even cooked for one and he wasn’t even that good of a cook.

He told himself he was fine, that the world hadn’t ended just because he had stood under a thousand flashing lights and watched Bucky Barnes smile for a lot of other cameras while his arm wrapped easily around Natasha Romanoff’s waist like they’d been written into the same frame.

It had been weeks, and the tabloids were still chewing on it “Confirmed?” “Just Friends?” … Every headline, every push notification, was a reminder of something Steve wasn’t supposed to feel.

He muted the hashtags, and turned off alerts, he even deleted the twitter app from his phone.

He started running again, longer than usual, until the cold air burned his lungs and left him too breathless to think, but quiet didn’t always mean peace, it just left space for thoughts to echo.

So one night, sitting on his couch in the half-light, Steve looked around and saw the silence for what it was, not calm, just empty…
There were dishes in the sink, a plant half-dead near the window, dust almost on everything…

His phone face down on the coffee table, he sighed, rubbed his hands over his face, and said aloud “Enough!!”

Maybe he didn’t need to forget Bucky, maybe he just needed something else to think about, and that’s how the dating app came back into his life, not as a promise, but as a distraction.

He downloaded it again, updated a few things:

Photographer. Six foot. Bearded but friendly.

He picked three photos that didn’t make him look too serious, one in the park, one at a gallery opening that Sam had forced him to go once and one candid someone else had taken at work.

He didn’t check the settings, didn’t notice that, years ago, he had filled out a “favorites” section and written Bucky Barnes without thinking, he closed the app, poured a drink, and told himself it was no big deal.

The first few matches were polite dead ends, too far, too busy, or just not right, because most of them only wanted to hook up almost immediately, and he wasn’t the kind of person to do that, he preferred building connections first.

Then came Sharon, her profile was simple: Art curator. Dog person. Fond of red wine and bad reality TV.

They started chatting, it was easy, a relief, almost, she asked about his work; he asked about her exhibits, they talked about New York traffic, art, bad dates, and somehow, it felt… normal.

For the first time in a while, Steve wasn’t thinking about what he had lost that he didn’t even have in the first place, only about what could still happen.

They talked for a week before agreeing to meet.

The restaurant was small, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of rosemary and red wine, Steve arrived early, a habit he couldn’t break, and tried to look relaxed even though he hadn’t done this in years.

When Sharon walked in, he stood immediately, she was striking but warm, confident in a way that felt grounding.
“Steve?” she asked, smiling.

He nodded “That’s me, Sharon, obviously?”

“Guilty”

The first twenty minutes were perfect, they laughed, shared stories, and complained about gallery crowds, she told him about her dog; he told her about the time he accidentally shot an entire campaign with the wrong ISO and didn’t tell anyone, the wine was good and the food was better, and for a moment, Steve believed this might actually work.

They were on dessert when she leaned forward, grinning “Okay, this is gonna sound ridiculous, but I have to be honest with you, when I saw your profile, I almost didn’t match, you said your favorite actor was Bucky Barnes, and I was like, oh great, another one of those guys, he’s literally everyone’s favorite, it gets annoyingly too much sometimes”

Steve blinked “My… favorite actor?”

“Yeah! It was in your preferences, I mean, I can’t blame you, I’m not a huge fan but he is really talented, I’ve seen a few movies here and there, but he’s also really good looking!! I mean have you seen the Cartier photos? Or that Met Gala look? The man is a walking sin and I’m not even a fan!!”

Steve’s heart sank “Right” he said, managing a thin smile “He’s… very photogenic”

“Photogenic?” she laughed “He’s art!! Those shots? Whoever took them, knew what they were doing, there’s one where he’s looking off-camera, wearing that watch? It’s like” she gestured helplessly, “like you can feel the air between him and whoever was behind the lens!! It’s insane!!”

Steve’s glass paused halfway to his lips “You think so?”

“Are you kidding? The internet went wild! My friends and I were like, whoever this photographer is, they’re either in love with him or they should be!! The intimacy? The lighting? Unreal”

He set the glass down a little too hard “Huh”

She tilted her head “You okay?”

“Yeah” he said, voice just slightly too rough “Just… something in my throat”

She smiled sympathetically, then asked, “ Speaking of, you said you’re a photographer too, right? What kind of stuff do you shoot?”

There was his out, a moment to deflect, to laugh it off, say landscapes or architecture, but Steve was tired and maybe a part of him wanted to stop lying and own it up already.

“Fashion, mostly” he said “Campaigns, editorials, I, uh… In fact, I actually did that Cartier shoot” and the silence was immediate…

Her eyes widened “Wait! You- you mean that Cartier shoot?” He nodded and her hand flew to her chest “You’re that Steve Rogers?”

He tried to smile “Guess so”

“Oh my God” she whispered, looking genuinely starstruck “You met him?”

“Worked with him” Steve said quietly.

“Same thing” she said, laughing in disbelief “Oh my God!! I mean, sorry, but that’s insane!! You must’ve been so close to him, those photos were intimate, like, the kind of intimate that makes people talk, you know everyone thinks you were-” she cut herself off, flushing “Sorry, that’s rude”

Steve’s throat tightened “It’s fine”

She covered her face, laughing nervously “I’m sorry, this is just… wild!! I can’t believe I’m sitting here with the guy who basically broke the internet!! Can I- this is so embarrassing- but can I see some of the unreleased photos?”

Steve stared at her, something small and tired in his chest giving way to resignation and he almost laughed “Sorry” he said softly “They’re not mine to share”

“Of course, yeah, obviously” she said quickly “I didn’t mean- it’s just- they’re so beautiful, you really captured something”

“I thought you said you weren’t a big fan” Steve asked then wanted to disappear right after, because what even?

“Yeah, but I love art!! And boy you really made him look like he belonged in a museum!!! Thank you, you’re talented!!”

He nodded, murmured a thank-you, but his appetite was gone.

They walked out together after dinner, Sharon smiled at him kindly “You’re really interesting, Steve, even if I did just spend half our dinner talking about someone else”

He smiled faintly “I’ve had worse nights”

She laughed “We should do this again” she finished, said goodbye, and disappeared down the block.

Steve walked home alone, the streets danced with life, couples talking, taxis rushing by, someone laughing too loudly a few steps away, he kept his hands in his pockets, shoulders bent against the night air.

He thought about Sharon, how nice she was, how easy she made conversation and how he hadn’t felt present for most of it because every topic, every stray word, somehow looped back to the same orbit… Bucky.

He wanted to move on, God, he wanted to, but how do you move on from someone you’ve never even had or who doesn’t even know you’re standing still?

Came the second date, the night had started fine, almost normal, for once, Steve had left the studio before dark, he went home, changed into a clean shirt, buttoned it halfway, then unbuttoned one too many times before deciding he didn’t care, his hair behaved, and there was something reassuring about seeing himself in the mirror and thinking, Yeah!! I look like someone who’s got it together! He actually didn’t but the illusion helped.

Sharon had seemed nice, kind, smart and genuinely funny, their first date had been light and easy, she made him laugh and he thought maybe, finally, this could be something!! He bought some flowers, reserved them a table at a fancy restaurant, after all, he was doing well enough with himself to spoil himself once in a while.

The restaurant was warm and softly lit, he got there a little early as usual, old habits, he ordered some water, checked his phone, and reread her last message “Can’t wait!!”

Seven came, then ten past, then twenty, the waiter had stopped by twice, the kind of smile of someone who had seen this kind of thing before, and then, the phone buzzed.

“I’m really sorry, Steve, I can’t make it tonight! I didn’t realize who you really were before… well, I googled you, you seem amazing, but I don’t think I can do that kind of attention, I mean, you basically work with famous people all the time, and I think it takes a lot of your time, and honestly I’m looking for someone who’s gonna be there for me all the time! And you’re basically famous now! It’s not you, I promise!”

He exhaled through his nose, smiled a small, tired smile at the irony, he wasn’t famous not really but apparently photographing Bucky Barnes once was enough to ruin your dating chances.

He texted back something polite, thumb stopping over the send button longer than it should have, then he hit send, closed his phone, and sat back.

Fine, he was already here, why not eat, have a glass of wine and maybe call Sam later and pretend to laugh about it.

The waiter came by again “Still expecting someone, sir?”

“No” Steve said, smiling “Just me tonight”

He ordered some pasta, the name was Italian, fancy, he didn’t bother to read it, but he knew it was going to taste amazing, and another glass of water, and tried not to think too much.

That’s when the door opened, and the air changed somehow!

He noticed him by the reflection first a tall figure at the host stand, ball cap pulled low, dark jacket, sunglasses even though it was getting dark outside and the lighting didn’t call for them inside, the way he moved was casual, confident and familiar.

It hit Steve like déjà vu, that unmistakable shift in gravity, it was Bucky.

He almost laughed, because of course, of course it would be him, the one person the universe refused to let him forget.

Steve ducked his head, pretending to check his phone, hoping to go unnoticed, his pulse picked up anyway, chest tight in that ridiculous, teenage way.

Bucky murmured something to the host, voice low and warm, the kind of voice that stuck to the edges of memory, he was probably ordering takeout, Steve told himself, he’d be gone in five minutes… Except he wasn’t.

Because when Steve risked a glance up, just one, Bucky was already looking at him, he was putting his sunglasses in his jacket’s pocket, and blue eyes met his, recognition flashing!!

“Steve?”

Steve froze halfway through a sip of water “Oh!! Uh— hey!”

Bucky grinned, that familiar grin, the one that had charmed cameras, fans, entire nations but up close, it was just him, human and warm, he walked over “Man, I thought that was you!! Didn’t wanna interrupt or anything, but…” he glanced at the empty seat across from Steve, the flowers on the table “you waiting for someone?”

Steve’s throat felt dry “Uh- Was”

“Oh” Bucky’s tone softened, a hint of sympathy cutting through the casualness “She stood you up?”

Steve gave a small, humorless smile “Something like that”

Without asking, Bucky pulled out the chair across from him and sat down like they’d meet here on purpose “Then I’m your new dinner date” he said easily, waving over the waiter.

Steve blinked “You- what?”

“Yeah” Bucky said, removing his cap, running a hand through his hair “You look like you could use some company and I was just picking up food anyway, so…” He turned to the waiter “John!! Buddy, actually, scratch that, I’ll eat here”

“Would you like to see a menu, Mr. Barnes? Or would you like your same order to be served here?” the waiter asked! “Yeah, same order, and bring a bottle of red, something good” He glanced at Steve “You drink wine?”

“Sometimes” Steve said.

“Great, we’ll share it” The waiter nodded and hurried off.

Steve tried to gather his thoughts “You really don’t have to-”

Bucky waved a hand dismissively “Nah! You got ditched, you deserve to be treated, and it’s my treat! No arguments!!”

The words landed heavier than they should have, kindness so simple, so casual and yet it hit Steve like a weight pressed gently against his ribs.

Bucky pulled out his phone, thumbed through his contacts, and hit call “Hey, Nat” he said, leaning back in his chair “Yeah, plans changed, don’t wait up, okay? Just order something yourself or whatever, figure it out!! I’ll see you later” A pause, a soft laugh “Yeah, yeah, tell Clint he still owes me for that sushi disaster”

When Bucky ended the call and looked back at him, Steve’s chest was already tight.

“Okay” Bucky said, smiling again “She’s got dinner covered, so now it’s just us”

Steve laughed weakly “You really didn’t have to do that”

Bucky shrugged “Hey, it’s the least I can do, I owe you for that Cartier shoot, you made me look way better than I do in real life”

Steve almost choked on air “I doubt that”

They talked, slipping into conversation like they’d done it a thousand times, Bucky told him about filming, exhausting days, night shoots, the ridiculousness of some stunts and Steve found himself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in weeks and when Bucky laughed back, eyes crinkling, Steve’s heart did a strange, painful twist.

And then, as the waiter poured their wine, Bucky tilted his head, studying him “You look different” he said suddenly.

Steve froze “Different?”

“Yeah” Bucky said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully “I don’t know what it is, did you do something to your beard?”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh “No!! Not really!”

“Your hair?”

“Nope”

Bucky leaned forward, elbows on the table, gaze flickering across his face like he was trying to solve a puzzle, it wasn’t flirtation it was focus, intense and curious, quietly devastating, Steve could barely breathe under it, and finally, Bucky’s expression brightened “Got it, it’s your glasses, you’re not wearing them”

“Oh” Steve said quickly, relieved to have something to say “Yeah, I’m trying contacts lately”

Bucky smiled, slow and genuine “Looks good on you, tho you look better with the glasses”

Steve’s stomach dropped “Thanks”

The conversation drifted back to safer topics, art, New York, the strangeness of fame, the way people assumed they knew you when all they really knew were fragments, Bucky talked about how lonely it got sometimes, not being able to go anywhere without a disguise, and Steve was listening and he understood too well, different worlds, maybe but the same kind of isolation, the same ache of being seen and unseen all at once.

When the food arrived, Bucky reached for the bill before Steve could even think about it “I already told you, don’t even try” he said, smirking “I’m paying!! You’ve had a night”

Steve smiled quietly, warmth flooding through him that had nothing to do with the wine “Thank you”

“Anytime, Rogers” Bucky said softly.

They lingered long after the plates were cleared, talking until the restaurant began to empty out and when they finally stood, Bucky clasped his shoulder briefly, a touch that burned through the fabric of Steve’s shirt “See you around, yeah?”

Steve nodded, not trusting his voice “Yeah! Sure!!”

Bucky nodded, looked down at the flowers that now were on an empty chair next to where they were sitting, “May I take those at least? So you wouldn’t think it was a waste of money? Lillies are my favorites”

“Oh! Yeah, sure, they’re all yours” Steve replied with a chuckle.

He watched him as he took the bouquet and left, the door swinging shut behind him, Steve stood there for a moment, alone again, but not lonely, not quite.

Walking home through the city lights, Steve realized he was smiling, he didn’t want to, he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it.

He’d spent months trying to move on, to forget the quiet electricity that ran through him in every stolen glance and tonight, fate, or something crueler, had dropped Bucky Barnes right back into his orbit.

And worse, he’d been kind, kind enough to make Steve fall a little bit harder, and he faced it, there was going to be no moving on from Bucky Barnes, not anytime soon!

Chapter Text

It had been three days since that dinner.

Steve still wasn’t sure what it had been, not really, it was a dinner, technically, but obviously not a date, not something planned and more like… an accident the universe had arranged just to mess with him.

He didn’t expect to see Bucky at that restaurant, not when he was sitting there alone, already trying to swallow the sting of Sharon’s cancellation… It was supposed to be a night to move on, to start new but instead, it turned into something else entirely, something that still lingered under his skin days later, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.

He could still picture it all the time, especially if he closed his eyes, the way Bucky had looked in that low golden light, hat and sunglasses, casual clothes that did nothing to hide the easy natural way he carried himself, that smile, faint and surprised and so damn warm, when he spotted Steve.

The way he just sat down no invitation, no hesitation as if there wasn’t even a question of whether he should and then, somehow, it was dinner, just like that.

Steve remembered trying to tell himself not to overthink it, that it wasn’t anything more than a coincidence, that Bucky was being friendly, kind, his usual charming self but that didn’t stop the way his chest tightened every time Bucky laughed or how his pulse jumped when Bucky leaned across the table to call the waiter, casually saying he would pay for both their meals.

Or that phone call to Natasha, light, affectionate, easy... That moment, for reasons, he couldn’t quite name and it had stuck with Steve more than anything else, he didn’t want to believe it, but it made him think that he does matter to Bucky, in a way.

He sat there across from Bucky, pretending to focus on his food, while something inside him danced and twisted in the same breath because it had been so long since someone had shown him that kind of simple, thoughtless care, the kind that didn’t need explanation or reason.

He went home that night restless, a mess of confusion and warmth, he slept badly and dreamt worse… Now it was more than impossible to not think about Bucky.

By the third day, he thought maybe he finally managed to put it behind him, he was wrong… He walked into the café to meet Sam that morning, Sam was already there, waving him over, two coffees on the table “Well, look at you!!” Sam said as soon as Steve sat down “You’re in a good mood”

Steve frowned, instinctively defensive “What makes you say that?”

“You’re smiling” Sam said pointedly “And not your awkward polite smile either, and you’re glowing”

“I’m not!”

“Oh, you definitely are” Sam grinned wide, leaning back in his chair like he had just solved a mystery “Let me guess, things are going well with Sharon?” Steve froze just long enough for Sam to take it as confirmation “I knew it!” Sam said, proud of himself “Didn’t I tell you she was good for you? Smart, independent, no nonsense, I bet she keeps you on your toes!! What, two dates in and you’re already glowing like that? Damn”

Steve managed a small, almost painful smile “Yeah… Something like that!”

He didn’t correct him, he didn’t say that Sharon had texted him, apologizing, saying she didn’t think it would work out after all, he didn’t mention sitting alone in that restaurant, staring at the empty chair across from him before Bucky Barnes, the universe’s personal test of his emotional tolerance, walked right in, it wasn’t that Steve wanted to lie, it was just that the truth felt… impossible to explain… Because what would he even say? That he ended up having dinner with a man he was trying not to have feelings for? That Bucky was kinder than he had any right to be? More charming than anyone should legally be allowed to be? That Steve had spent the entire night pretending his hands weren’t shaking every time their eyes met? Yeah… No… He let Sam fill the silence instead.

“You see? I told you” Sam said “You just needed to get back out there, Rogers, the world is full of people, but you can’t meet any of them if you keep hiding behind your camera and your excuses”

“I don’t hide” Steve said automatically, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

Sam raised an eyebrow “You kinda do, buddy” Steve smiled faintly, looking down at his coffee, it wasn’t worth arguing, because Sam meant well, he always did, so Steve nodded in agreement at all the right places, and tried to look like a man who was happy and moving on and not actually falling even more.

When he was home later that day, an email arrived, it came in the afternoon, after hours of photo editing and half a dozen unanswered messages from clients about scheduling.

Subject: Potential Collaboration, PEOPLE Magazine Feature

At first, he thought it was a mistake or a scam, he worked with a few publications before, sure, but PEOPLE was a whole different league, he opened it slowly.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

We would love to discuss a potential photography collaboration for an upcoming feature.

It is a special project and the details are confidential until we meet in person.

Please confirm if you’re available for a short consultation this week.

Steve blinked at the screen “Special project” “Confidential”

His stomach twisted, that strange, careful excitement that comes when something feels almost too good to be real, he read it three times and then once more, just to be sure and he replied immediately.

Two days later, he found himself sitting in a sleek office full of glass, light, and money, the kind of place that made him feel like his shoes weren’t polished enough.

A woman named Jane greeted him warmly, all smiles and practiced ease “Mr. Rogers, it’s great to finally meet you, thank you for coming in” She led him into a small conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows and the skyline glittered behind her.

“So” she began, folding her hands “We’re putting together one of our biggest annual features The Sexiest Man Alive issue”

Steve blinked once, then again “…Oh”

Jane smiled, as if this was the most normal thing in the world “It’s a massive piece for us as you probably know, we’ve been finalizing the creative direction, and your name came up immediately, your portraits are intimate without feeling invasive and you capture people as they are, not as they think they should be and that’s rare”

“Thank you” Steve said automatically, trying to stay composed while his brain scrambled.

“There’s just one catch” she added lightly “You’ll have to sign an NDA before we tell you who it is, because we take confidentiality seriously with this feature”

He nodded “Understood, sure, yeah, I’m in, it’s an honor!”

He signed the forms while Jane smiled, satisfied, and flipped a page in her folder as he finished “Well, now it’s safe to say, the feature is Bucky Barnes” and for a second, everything went silent.

The sound of the city outside, the distant murmur of voices, even the soft click of Jane’s pen, gone and all Steve could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat.

She kept talking, completely unaware that his entire world had just tilted “He’s agreed to do it, but only under one condition, he specifically requested that you be the photographer, his exact words were: I won’t do it unless Steve Rogers photographs me because he’s the only one who makes me feel at ease and comfortable with shoots like this”

Steve’s breath caught “He said that?”

“Yes” Jane said, smiling “We were thrilled, of course because you have a great dynamic, I hear, you worked together before and this’ll be perfect!” Perfect…

Steve couldn’t even remember how he got through the rest of the meeting, something about creative freedom, lighting, locations, he nodded at all the right places, took notes he wouldn’t remember later, and when it was finally over, he stepped out into the street and just… stood there.

The wind tugged at his hair, cars honked, someone laughed nearby, the sun hit his face and it was suddenly too bright, too much.

He requested me.

It was almost funny, how the universe never gave him what he wanted, only what would make him feel everything all at once.

He wanted to scream, or laugh, or both, and instead, he exhaled, long and slow, and whispered under his breath “You’ve got to be kidding me!” But even as he said it, a helpless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, no matter how much it terrified him, no matter how much he told himself to stop feeling what he felt and no matter how much he told himself this was just work, his heart was already racing at the thought of seeing Bucky again.

And the worst part was, knowing that this time, it wouldn’t just be casual, it wouldn’t be a coincidence, it wouldn’t just be any photoshoot, it would be the photoshoot!! And Steve had no idea how he was going to survive it.

Chapter Text

Sleep was a joke that night…

Steve tried, God, he really tried, he turned off the lights, stared at the ceiling, even made himself a cup of chamomile tea because his mom used to drink it and swore it helped her, but the moment his head hit the pillow, his mind started looping again and again through every possible disaster scenario the next day could bring.

He kept seeing flashes of Bucky not as the movie star across billboards, but as the man sitting across from him at that restaurant, chin propped on his hand, smiling softly like Steve was his closest friend of forever.

He spent the past few days convincing himself he could handle this, that he was a professional and that he could do his job, keep his distance and treat it like any other shoot but lying there in the dark, sheets tangled around his legs, Steve knew deep down it wasn’t going to be like any other shoot.

He turned over, again and again and by 3 am, he gave up… He got up, turned on his laptop and went over the lighting plan for the tenth time, read through the client notes, double-checked the equipment list and rechecked the car rental confirmation, anything to keep him from thinking about how close he was to seeing Bucky again.

The irony wasn’t lost on him, he had been photographing people for over a decade, models, actors, musicians and even a few world leaders, and not once he had felt this… unsteady, even when he did the Cartier shoot.

When it was finally dawn, Steve gave up on pretending, so he showered, dressed, brewed coffee strong enough to wake the dead, and stared at himself in the mirror, he looked tired but he also looked well, good, his assistant, Wanda, had been nagging him to dress the part more lately, and this time he listened: a light navy shirt rolled up at the sleeves, dark jeans,  and jacket that actually fit, he adjusted his glasses, sighed, and told his reflection “It’s just a job” and the reflection didn’t look convinced.

The rental car smelled faintly like lemon and gasoline, Wanda climbed in a few minutes after he pulled up to her apartment, she was young, efficient, smart, and had that disarming honesty that made her both invaluable and occasionally unbearable.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” she said as soon as she buckled her seatbelt.

Steve smiled tiredly “What gave it away?”

“The eyes” she said, grinning “And the fact that you’re drinking coffee that could strip paint off the car”

He chuckled under his breath, shifting the car into drive, the morning air was cool, sunlight breaking slowly across the highway as they headed out of the city, the location was about an hour away, a private villa rented by the magazine for the shoot, quiet and charming, so perfect for the kind of photos they wanted.

Wanda was flipping through her notes, talking mostly to herself, when she glanced over at him “I get it, by the way” she said suddenly “You’re nervous”

He glanced at her, startled “Nervous?”

She nodded “Of course!! It’s People Magazine… That’s huge you know!! You’ll probably get flooded with requests after this, it’s a big step for your career, something like this on your portfolio? You’ll be unstoppable”

Steve smiled faintly, hands tightening on the steering wheel “Yeah” he said softly “Big step” If only she knew the half of it.

She didn’t, of course, to her, he was just another working photographer chasing the next big project, she had no idea that his pulse was already beating in his throat, that the thought of walking into that villa made his stomach twist itself into impossible knots.

She kept talking, cheerful, oblivious “Honestly, you should be proud of yourself, you’ve been putting in the work, and it’s paying off and for what it’s worth, you look great”

He blinked “What?”

“The outfit” she said, gesturing vaguely toward him “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear something that actually fits before, like in a good way and don’t worry, I’m engaged, I’m not flirting, I’m just observing”

Steve laughed, startled but genuine “Well… thanks”

“I mean it” she said “You’re kind of hot, Rogers, it’s a little tragic that you’re still single”

He shook his head, half embarrassed, half amused “Thanks for the pep talk, Wanda”

She grinned, kicking her feet up slightly on the dashboard until he gave her a look and she put them back down “Anytime, boss”

They drove in silence for a while after that, and Steve tried to let her words roll off, but part of him couldn’t help the bitter little echo they stirred, still single, as if it was a choice; maybe it was, in a way, maybe it was easier to be alone than to keep falling for things that could never happen.

He could already feel that ache coming back the one he kept trying to ignore every time he thought of Bucky’s smile, Bucky’s laugh, Bucky’s voice… He tightened his grip on the wheel, eyes on the road ahead, and told himself it would be fine, it had to be.

Because in a few minutes, he wasn’t allowed to be the man who couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky Barnes, he had to be the photographer, and for as long as the camera was in his hands, he could hide behind it, or at least, he hoped he could.

The drive ended at a long dirt road that curved through a screen of cypress trees and opened into a sun-washed villa perched above the water, it looked like something from a travel magazine: stone walls, white linen curtains blowing through open windows, terraces bathed in gold light, the kind of place meant for breathing easily except Steve couldn’t.

Wanda hopped out as soon as he parked, talking through the list on her tablet, Steve followed more slowly, feeling the restless weight in his stomach, he told himself to focus.

Lights first, then the reflector then test the natural shadows on the north terrace, you’ve done this a thousand times, yet it felt like it was the first time he’s doing it!

They carried the equipment inside, the villa’s main room was open and white, sunlight flooding through the French doors, perfect light, Steve thought automatically, already seeing the frames in his head, he adjusted the diffusers, set up the backdrop near a wall, his hands worked from instinct, muscle memory guiding him while his brain was thinking about other things, things he shouldn’t be thinking.

“You okay?” Wanda asked “You look like you’re about to take a physics exam”

“I’m fine”

“You’re not fine” she said, smiling “But it’s okay, big gig, big celebrity, everyone’s watching, just breathe, but on the bright side, this isn’t the first time you worked with Barnes, it should be easy, piece of cake!” He nodded, because technically she wasn’t wrong, she just didn’t know the whole truth.

By late morning, the production team had arrived, makeup, wardrobe, the magazine’s creative director and the villa began to fill with low voices and the sound of garment bags, someone was testing the playlist through a speaker; slow, modern jazz, a videographer and a reporter were setting a spot for the interview with Bucky, stylists choosing outfits, everyone was casually doing their job… Steve ran one last light test, the camera felt heavy and solid in his hands and he thought good something to anchor him.

Then the front door opened, and everything inside him stilled, Bucky walked in with that casual, movie-star ease, sunglasses hooked on the collar of a light gray T-shirt, jeans slung low, his hair pushed back messily, he looked effortlessly golden, the kind of beautiful that didn’t need lighting.

“Hey, everyone” he said, smiling as he waved to the room, the creative director went up first, then makeup, then wardrobe; Bucky greeted each of them like old friends and then his eyes found Steve and something in his face brightened “Steve!”

Steve froze for half a heartbeat before remembering how to move “Hey-uh, hey, Bucky” Bucky crossed the room in three long strides and, before Steve could offer a handshake, he pulled him into a hug, it wasn’t the polite kind, either, it was warm and solid, as if they’ve known each other for years, his arm hooked around Steve’s shoulders, chest pressed close, lingering just long enough for Steve to forget how to breathe.

“Man, it’s good to see you” Bucky said against his ear before letting go “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah” Steve managed, clearing his throat “A while”

Bucky grinned, easy and genuine “How’ve you been? Still making everyone look better than they actually are?”

“I-uh, I try”

He could feel the eyes of the crew on them but Bucky didn’t seem to care, he leaned casually against the equipment case, glancing around the set “This place is gorgeous, you picked it?”

“People did” Steve said “But it’s got good light”

“Of course you would notice the light first” Bucky’s voice was low, fond “That’s so you!”

Steve’s heart stuttered, he bent to adjust the tripod, mostly so he didn’t have to look at him for a second “You ready to get started?”

“Sure, whatever you say, you’re the boss today!”

He turned to the wardrobe stylist as she held up two options: a soft linen shirt for the relaxed shots, a tailored dark suit for the sharper ones, he tried them both, joking easily, making everyone laugh, he moved like he belonged in front of a lens, relaxed shoulders, instinctive angles but when Steve lifted the camera for the first test shot, Bucky’s eyes flicked straight to his, and the world shrank.

Through the viewfinder, Steve saw too much: the curve of Bucky’s mouth, the line of his throat, the faint stubble along his jaw catching the light, Steve’s fingers twitched on the shutter.

Breathe, Rogers, breathe, it’s just a job.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked softly.

“Yeah” Steve lowered the camera, forcing a small smile “Just checking exposure”

“You’re awfully quiet today” Bucky said “You sure you’re not sick or something?”

“No, I’m fine, just… concentrating”

Bucky tilted his head, still watching him, and for one terrifying second Steve thought he could see through the calm, then the stylist called his name, and Bucky’s attention shifted immediately, Steve exhaled slowly.

The rest of the crew faded into background noise, the shuffle of fabric, the murmur of instructions, someone adjusting the reflector outside, Steve stepped back, repositioned the lights, and forced his hands not to shake.

Bucky sat on the edge of a coffee table for one setup, sleeves rolled, ring glinting under the soft light “Like this?”

“That’s perfect” Steve said, voice steadier than he felt, he lifted the camera, found the frame, and through the lens saw the faint smile that wasn’t for the camera at all, it was just Bucky being Bucky, he pressed the shutter, the sound echoed softly in the room.

You can do this, he told himself, heart hammering, just focus on the light… The angles… The work… Another click… Another breath… And for the first time that day, he almost believed it, he raised the camera again and tried to breathe.

They moved between rooms: the light-drenched living space with its white walls and scattered cushions; the shaded veranda outside where the sea wind curled through the curtains; the rough stone terrace where the sunlight cut Bucky’s silhouette into sharp edges.

Steve was in motion the whole time, camera raised, giving directions, adjusting angles, somewhere between the second and third outfit, he realized he wasn’t nervous anymore, not exactly, the camera had become a shield again, something between him and the thing he couldn’t face.

“Turn your head a little-no, other side, yeah, hold that, don’t move, perfect” Click “That’s it, eyes on me” click, it was weirdly easy to talk like that, to command and Bucky- Bucky listened.

Every word, every gesture, he followed without question, tilted his chin, loosened his posture, laughed when Steve told him to, serious when Steve asked.

They moved to the veranda for the next look: open white shirt, skinny jeans, bare feet against the tile, the sunlight caught on his skin, tracing gold across his collarbones and Steve swallowed hard, grateful for the viewfinder hiding most of his face, he told himself to think about exposure, composition, shadows and not the shape of Bucky’s throat, or how his eyes seemed to soften when Steve said his name.

“You’re getting quiet again” Bucky teased between shots, lounging against the railing “That’s your concentration face, huh?”

“Something like that” Steve said, adjusting the lens.

“Tell me what to do next, boss”

Boss, the word hit somewhere low in his stomach, he ignored it “Turn a little toward the light, yeah, perfect, right there”

Bucky obeyed, body moving fluid and sure, the camera clicked again and again, each sound threading itself into Steve’s pulse.

Then came the moment, the one shot that stopped him cold, Bucky wasn’t posing, he was just standing by the open doors, the wind tugging at his hair, his eyes caught halfway between thought and stillness, something unguarded there, real, Steve lifted the camera without thinking and caught it… Perfect.

He stared at the screen for a beat too long, the photo still burning behind his eyelids.

“You took a shot? I wasn’t posing” Bucky asked softly.

Steve shook his head, clearing his throat “I know but, it was … good, really good, you’ll see”

“I trust you” Bucky said “now I’m ready, what do I do?” then smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, it was serious, thoughtful and beautiful in a way that hurt, and maybe that was why Steve said it, maybe he just wanted to see the light break through, he didn’t even think it through “Smile for me” he said, he didn’t plan to, it just slipped out, soft, automatic, too intimate.

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted, then he smiled, instantly, in fact obediently, and Steve’s heart nearly gave out, because there it was again, that heat curling in his gut, the realization that he spent the entire day telling Bucky Barnes what to do, how to move, how to look and Bucky had listened every time.

Something about that hit a nerve so deep it made him dizzy, get a grip! But his hands were starting to tremble, his chest too tight and every sound seemed amplified, the click of the shutter, the low voices behind him, even the slow drag of Bucky’s breathing.

He felt it building, the panic pressing at the edges of his ribs, not now, not here “Take five” Steve said quickly, his voice steady by sheer force of will “Or ten, I just need to-uh-check something” he didn’t wait for an answer he just turned and slipped out through the back hallway.

The bathroom door shut behind him, he braced both hands on the sink and bent his head, trying to breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth, he had done this before, on bad nights, when his thoughts wouldn’t slow down, but this was worse, the air felt thick… He looked at himself in the mirror, flushed, sweating, pupils wide… What are you doing?

It wasn’t just nerves anymore, it wasn’t the pressure of the job, or the weight of the gig, or even the camera, it was him… Bucky Barnes… Laughing... Smiling… Obeying.

Steve shut his eyes and gripped the edge of the counter until his knuckles went white, five breaths, ten… Eventually, the tremor eased, he straightened slowly, rinsed his hands under cold water, and forced his reflection into something resembling calm, because he had to go back out there, he had to finish the shoot, he was a professional… But deep down, he knew something had shifted and there was no taking it back.

Steve stared at himself one more time in the mirror for a long beat, until the reflection looked like someone he recognized again, he was tired, yes, but composed, he straightened his collar, breathed once more until the breath stopped feeling jagged, and walked back into the room with the practiced calm of someone who had made a career out of looking calm.

The set was exactly where he left it, Bucky was sitting on a low wall, hands folded, watching him with that easy, watchful smile and for a split second, Steve felt the old panic tug at his ribs, but he tamped it down and gave the kind of half-smile photographers learn to wear like armor “All right” he said, voice steady “Sorry about that, I just had to use the bathroom, you know, nature, we’ll wrap the veranda shots and move to the terrace for the last few, Bucky, can you stand up for me? Let’s try a couple with the jacket on, sleeves rolled”

Bucky stood and stretched as if they were old collaborators doing a comfortable routine, he moved as Bucky always did: with an ease that made everything look simpler than it was and when Steve called the light, Bucky was there, obeying the smallest suggestion without fuss, it felt strange and ordinary at once, and for some reason, it was much easier and he was doing this.

They fell into it: Steve talks, Bucky listens, the lens clicks, lights are checked, a laugh bubbles up at some offhand comment, and Steve feels himself laugh too real, and not the forced sound from before.

At one point, Bucky relaxed against a sun-warmed stone and started talking about the last place he filmed, a tiny coastal town with a bakery that made obscene croissants, the story was ridiculous and vivid; whatever had been keeping Steve’s mouth closed earlier loosened, he found himself trading barbs with Bucky, throwing in an anecdote about a campaign gone wrong a wardrobe malfunction that Steve had discreetly papered over while trying not to laugh, the crew chuckled, the stylist rolled her eyes in the best possible way and it felt, absurdly, like a normal workday.

“You’re actually pretty funny” Bucky said at one point.

“Only when I’m not trying” Steve shot back, and the camera captured the flash of a smile that, for a moment, made the rest of the world blur away “Okay, let’s take five, we need to get ready for the last setting, Bucky, stylists are waiting for you” Bucky nodded and immediately went to change into the last outfit.

The shoot resumes, the panic was so gone or at least, buried deep enough that Steve could breathe again, the crew was setting up the next and final round, softer light, pale curtains open to let in the late afternoon sun, the stylist was fussing over Bucky, who’s now wearing an unbuttoned sheer black shirt, linen black pants hanging low on his hips, skin glowing where the fabric falls open, he was barefoot, standing on the rug like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Steve told himself to focus on the job again and not the fact that his fingers were twitching with the urge to trace that line of sunlight down Bucky’s exposed skin.

“All right” he managed, his voice tight but level “Let’s-uh- let’s start by the window”

Bucky turned, the corner of his mouth lifting “You got it, boss”

That word again, it shouldn’t do anything!! It shouldn’t!! But Steve felt it slide straight through his ribcage… He raised the camera, hiding behind it like a shield as usual... Click... Click... The lens saw what he couldn’t bear to look at directly, the strength and softness mixed in Bucky’s face, the way his smile flickered on command and then faded into something quieter.

“Maybe-uh- open the shirt a bit more” Steve heard himself say, and was fighting images in his brain that had nothing to do with the shoot!

Bucky laughed nervously “You sure you’re not just trying to get me naked, Rogers?”

Steve nearly dropped the camera and the crew chuckled, but Bucky didn’t stop laughing and somehow, Steve found his voice again “Not my call, Barnes... It’s People’s idea”

“Yeah, yeah” Bucky replied, fingers undoing the last button “Blame the magazine”

The next few shots were worse or better, depending on how Steve felt that day, Bucky sat on the edge of a low couch, the sheer fabric slipping off his shoulders, the stylist sprayed water on his collarbones for a ‘dewy effect’ and Steve thought he might combust, but somehow he was in control.

He kept shooting… kept breathing... kept pretending that the sharp ache behind his ribs was just focus, or exhaustion and not longing.

Then it was done, Steve pretended to check the settings, Bucky shrugged back into a light jacket, sipping water and the atmosphere softened; even the crew started relaxing now that the main shots were wrapped.

“This is so weird” Bucky admitted quietly when they’re finally alone near the lighting setup “Being, you know, half naked while a bunch of people stare!! Thanks for making it feel easy, though”

Steve huffed a laugh “Comes with the job, I’ve shot worse”

Bucky raised a brow “Worse? Like what?” Steve smirked, hesitant but playful, he gave a tiny shrug and arched a brow, lips pressing together like he was debating whether to say it or not! Bucky’s eyes narrowed, more curiously, he leaned in “Wait- what do you mean worse?” Steve just looked at him, silent, amused and waiting, and then Bucky’s eyes widened in realization “No way!!” he mouthed, lips forming the word porn without sound.

Steve couldn’t help it, he laughed, ducking his head “It was years ago” he muttered, cheeks heating “I was broke, needed rent money, it actually paid well”

Bucky bursted out laughing, loud and bright, the kind of laugh that filled the whole room “Dude, you’re brave! I mean- damn, Rogers, I thought I made bold choices in my early days”

“Yeah, well” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck “a guy’s gotta eat and buy camera lenses and equipments”

“Unbelievable” Bucky grinned, still chuckling “I’m never gonna look at you the same way again, but seriously tho” he said, voice easy “Thank you for today, you were killing it!! Those frames you got, I didn’t know I could look like that”

Steve let out a small laugh “You did all the work actually, I just pointed the camera”

“No!! You do the seeing, Rogers, and that’s the part I-I don’t know, it’s easier with you there”

It’s easier with me there, he’d heard it before in public contexts; hearing it now, quiet and private, knocked the air out of him for a second, he swallowed and kept his voice even “Good!! That’s the goal”

For a long minute they just watched the crew folding gear, the light softened, the sea murmured below, and the villa sounded like a place that would hold memories, then the magazine’s creative director who spent all day hovering over with a watchful professional smile, came over with the kind of expression that said she had the power to tilt the rest of the night.

“Great work, everyone” she said, clapping her hands once lightly “Steve, Bucky, fabulous, we’ve got a little party tomorrow night, a small one with some contributors and a few people and other celebrities from the issue, and you’re both invited, you’ll find the details here” she said giving them each an envelope that’s apparently an invitation.

Bucky looked at Steve “You going, Rogers?”

 “I’m not sure…” he said “I’ll think about it”

Bucky’s face lit up “Please, you have to, because I’ll only go if you go”

The creative director watched them with a smile, amused “Consider it a small celebration” she said “Nothing too formal” As the crew gathered their things she called “We’ll see you both tomorrow at eight? Dress casual, and Steve, drop whatever few shots you want to preview on my drive, we’ll look later”

Bucky reached into his pocket and, almost with the same impulse he had in the restaurant weeks ago, he pulled out his phone, dug through the contacts quickly and then, with a little grin, he held the screen out to Steve “Here, give me your number” Steve paused, it was a small, ridiculous thing, but his fingers felt oddly clumsy as he took the phone and typed in the digits, feeling faintly ridiculous as he hesitated over the final keys “Promise you won’t give it to anyone” Bucky said, mock-serious.

“Okay?” Steve said, and then realized the way Bucky had phrased it, like a dare.

Bucky’s grin widened “Or I’ll come find you and kill you” The laugh that escaped Steve was immediate and real, a release after the tightness of the day.

“You’re unbelievable” Steve managed, handing the phone back “I’ll hold you to that”

Bucky took the device, tapped Steve’s name in and pocketed it, then took the water bottle that was on a table next to them and raised it in a small, private toast “See you tomorrow, Rogers” he said softly before he turned around and left, Steve lifted his bottle in return as he clipped the camera to his shoulder, took as much as he could take from the equipments and followed Wanda who took the rest, and they walked to the parked car.

Steve felt the balance in his chest shift, he thought about today, how at the beginning he was terrified that the proximity would shred him, that every glance would betray him and it almost did with that panic attack and yet he found a way to steer through it, and he managed to hide what he was really feeling, and it worked, it worked just fine.

The way everything was easy later on, the fun conversations they’ve had, and the joke about the killing hung in his head like a harmless string, a private joke, a small detail, and for the first time since the morning, Steve allowed himself to imagine the possibility of not collapsing the next time he sees Bucky because after today, he knew he could control it, whatever it was, Bucky had been nothing but kind, nothing but nice and nothing but friendly, and Steve couldn’t let his feelings ruin that, ruin whatever was building between them… One step at a time, he thought, as he drove back home… One frame at a time.

Chapter Text

The drive home after the shoot was long enough for Steve to rehearse every possible version of “I’m fine” it was the phrase he repeated all day, in his head, in his chest, like a mantra and now, he actually felt it and believed it.

He let himself into his apartment, kicked off his shoes, and leaned against the door for a second, just breathing, the echo of Bucky’s voice still lingered somewhere in his ribs, the laughter, the teasing and that offhand warmth that made everything worse, the kind of warmth that made you think maybe there’s a chance.

Steve exhaled through his nose, hard and then he dragged himself to the shower, the water was hot enough to sting, exactly the way he needed it, he pressed his palms to the tile and let the spray beat down his back, closing his eyes and trying not to see the things he didn’t mean to memorize “Jesus” Steve whispered as the water was streaming down his face.

By the time he stepped out, he felt drained, skin warm, hair dripping, and heart heavy, he grabbed a towel, ruffled it through his hair, and caught sight of himself in the mirror and his reflection looked... younger, almost, and lighter, despite everything and maybe that was what made the whole thing so dangerous.

The next morning, Steve found himself staring at his closet like it held the answer to a question he didn’t want to ask, he wasn’t going to that party probably, he was just... trying to see what he would wear if he went, hypothetically.

He pulled out a few shirts, a dark blue button-down,  a white one, something simple, clean and effortless, and maybe that gray jacket that fit better than he would admit.

He was still debating between the dark shirt and the white one when there was a knock at his door.

“Morning, sunshine!” Sam stood in the doorway, already holding two coffees.

Steve blinked “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in on my boy” Sam said, walking right past him “You’ve been MIA since your big dinner date with Sharon and I thought I’d come see if you’re still in one piece or if she broke your heart already”

Steve hesitated, he completely forgot the Sharon story he accidentally let become a thing “Uh… Yeah... Still standing”

Sam looked him up and down, then grinned “You’re glowing, man, you must be doing something right, two dates or three in and you look” he waved a hand toward Steve’s chest “recharged and kinda smug, actually”

Steve chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck “You think?”

“Oh, I know, it’s written all over your face, I’m happy for you man, guess she’s the real deal, huh?”

Steve shrugged, pretending to check his phone to hide the rising heat in his cheeks “Yeah, she’s… great”

They spent the next hour on Steve’s couch, pizza boxes between them, sports highlights playing in the background, it was easy, almost normal until Steve’s phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number:

hey rogers, it’s bucky, you forgot to save my number yesterday, hope you’re doing well, anyways, you thinking of going tonight? trying to decide if i should drag myself there. figured i’d check with my favorite photographer first [winking emoji]

Steve’s pulse tripped over itself, his lips twitched before he could stop them and a stupid small grin pulled at his face it was soft, helpless and involuntary.

Sam noticed instantly “Oh, damn” he said, leaning over the couch “That Sharon?”

Steve blinked “What?”

“That look” Sam said, smirking “You got the look, man, the ‘I’m in too deep but I’m not admitting it yet’ look!! God, this is great, I told you getting back out there would fix that sad-boy energy you had”

Steve laughed weakly, trying to sound normal “Yeah, yeah”

Sam pointed at him “Don’t play it cool! You’re down bad but I’m proud of you, real woman, real life, no movie star fantasy” Steve froze, his laugh disappeared, Sam didn’t notice or pretended not to “You needed this, man, to move on from all that nonsense, I mean, you and I both know, come on, the guy’s an actor and not just any actor, he’s a star and he’s not exactly-”

“Okay I get it Sam, I do” Steve cut in gently.

Sam stopped, studying him, the silence hung for a beat too long before he nodded, softer now “You know I don’t mean it bad I just… don’t want you to get stuck on something impossible and get your heart broken over something like that”

“I know” Steve said again, quieter, Sam gave him a small smile, the kind that meant you okay? without saying it and Steve forced one back “Yeah, I’m good”

Sam stretched, getting up from the couch “Anyway, you’re seeing Sharon tonight, right? You should start getting ready, Romeo”

Steve swallowed, nodding once “Yeah, I should”

“Great, have fun!!”

He walked Sam to the door, waited for the sound of the elevator, and then leaned against the wall, phone still in his hand, he didn’t want to keep lying to his best friend but he didn’t have a choice, Sam’s opinion about Bucky was strong and Steve wasn’t ready for all the pep talk each time.

Another message lit up the screen.

you better be going. it’ll be boring as hell without you.
and don’t say no, i’ll find out.

Steve exhaled, smiling in spite of himself… Maybe he would go… but maybe he shouldn’t and for now, he typed back:

I’ll think about it.

He hit send, tossed the phone onto the couch, and muttered under his breath half amusement, half disbelief, all longing:

“What am I doing?”

Steve told himself three times he wasn’t going and then he found himself ironing a shirt and trimming his beard.

It wasn’t vanity that made him go, not even curiosity, it was something smaller, something quieter, it was that hopeful, stupid part of him that just wanted to see Bucky again without the pressure of a lens between them.

He took an uber to the venue, a minimalist rooftop space overlooking the city, the evening air smelled like champagne and cigarette smoke and something faintly floral.

Inside, the place was buzzing, not loud, not chaotic, but alive… Famous faces moved through the room in elegant threads of conversation, actors, models, producers, designers, people Steve had seen in magazines, on screens, in passing headlines and even worked with before.

He recognized several from the crew yesterday, stylists, makeup artists, a few assistants who smiled politely, greeted him by name and then drifted off to mingle.

Steve smiled back, nodded, and instantly felt out of place, he stood near the bar, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd, it wasn’t that he didn’t belong; he just felt visible, every camera flash felt like it might turn on him.

He sipped his drink, something light, sparkling, to keep his hands busy, and he considered leaving, he could still slip out quietly, say he made an appearance and call it a night, and then-

“Steve!!” That voice so familiar and effortless and warm in all the ways it shouldn’t be… Steve turned before he could stop himself.

Bucky Barnes was walking toward him, head slightly tilted, half-smile in place, the kind of casual grace that turned every step into a photo-worthy moment, he wore black: tailored jacket, open collar, gold chain glinting at his throat, the same charm that always broke the internet and now somehow it was more devastating up close.

Steve’s breath caught just for a second, “You came” Bucky said, grin widening “I was betting you wouldn’t”

Steve blinked, trying to find words that didn’t sound like a confession “You bet on it?”

“Metaphorically” Bucky replied, leaning against the bar beside him “You don’t strike me as the party type”

“I’m not” Steve admitted “Still not sure why I’m here”

“Because I told you to” Bucky teased lightly, flagging the bartender for a drink “And because I owed you a glass of wine”

Steve’s lips twitched “That was dinner, not drinks”

“Details” Bucky said with a dismissive flick of his hand then he added, softer “I’m glad you came” and just like that, the knot in Steve’s chest eased a little.

The rest happened naturally and effortlessly, they fell into conversation the way people who understood silence did, Bucky joked about how People Magazine still used “sexiest man alive” like it was 2005, Steve teased him about his smirk in one of the shots.

“You mean your smirk” Bucky corrected, sipping his drink “You’re the one who told me to ‘give you that look’”

Steve almost choked on his drink “I was just doing my job”

Bucky grinned “Sure you did”

Steve laughed, shaking his head, tension bleeding away, the easy rhythm they found on set was back, laughter, teasing and for hours, they talked about work, travel, music, about how Bucky still hated small talk and loved motorcycles and how Steve missed New York winters and coffee from actual diners.

It wasn’t until someone approached Bucky for a photo that Steve realized it was getting late yet he didn’t want to leave, Bucky handled the crowd like a professional, smiling, polite, but the moment the flash died, he turned back to Steve every time like gravity and every time, Steve’s heart betrayed him a little more.

Bucky looked over at him with that same half-smile “See? Wasn’t so bad”

“No” Steve said quietly “Not bad at all”

“Guess I’ll have to drag you to every party from now on” Bucky said, setting down his glass.

Steve smiled faintly “Don’t make a habit of it”

Bucky laughed, light and easy, like they were old friends “Too late”

And for a second, Steve believed it, that this was simple, that it didn’t hurt and that friendship was enough, but he knew deep down, it wasn’t enough.

Steve didn’t know how long they had been talking, the room had filled and emptied twice over, waiters drifting through like shadows refilling glasses and clearing plates, he forgot about the time, about the emails piling up, about the unedited pictures that should be ready by tomorrow, about the fact that this was, technically, work-adjacent and he should probably be networking, instead, he was leaning against the bar beside Bucky Barnes, watching the man laugh over something small and stupid he just said.

And then there was a sudden hush, a collective shift in the atmosphere that rippled through the room like static, people turned, heads lifted and conversations paused mid-sentence.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, curious, and there they were.

The Asgardians.

Thor, Loki, and Hela Odinson, the biggest pop-rock band on the planet, the kind of beautiful that felt almost unfair, Thor in a tailored white suit, blond hair pulled back, smile bright enough to light the skyline, Loki in black silk and eyeliner sharp enough to kill and Hela in emerald and diamonds, her presence was magnetic, every step was deliberate!! They didn’t just walk into rooms they took them.

Even Bucky’s head turned, his lips parted slightly in something like appreciation “Wow” he muttered “Didn’t know they were back in the country”

Steve followed his gaze out of reflex, took in the trio in a single glance, the flash of color, the shimmer, the impossible perfection, and then looked right back at Bucky.

“They’re alright” he said casually, taking another sip of his drink.

Bucky blinked at him, then huffed a soft laugh “Alright? They’re the Asgardians!! Half the internet’s in love with them”

Steve shrugged, his tone was light but steady “Guess I’m in the other half”

Bucky looked back at him, just for a moment, and something in his smile hesitated, because while every other person in that room was watching the Odinson siblings move like gods through the crowd, Steve Rogers was standing there, eyes fixed only on him.

And he wasn’t subtle about it, either, there was warmth in the way he looked, not fanboy awe or professional focus, it was something else, admiration, sure, but also… something else.

Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying him, and for the first time all evening, Steve looked almost shy, his hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes dropped to his glass, and he mumbled something about needing a refill.

That’s when Bucky realized he’d been staring back.

*Bucky’s POV (finally)*

Steve had been talking for the last ten minutes, hands moving as he spoke, that little crease between his brows appearing every time he got too into whatever story he was telling, something about art, maybe, or his first disastrous photoshoot, or the time he accidentally deleted all the important unedited files.

It didn’t even matter what the words were, what mattered was the way he said them, steady, warm, the kind of voice that made the noise of the party fade behind them.

And then, all at once, the atmosphere around them shifted, the air changed, that collective pull, that quiet ruffle that rolled through a crowd when someone important entered the room.

Bucky felt it before he saw it, he glanced toward the entrance, and there they were, The Asgardians.

Thor, Loki, Hela Odinson, all gold and glitter and impossible confidence, the crowd bent toward them without meaning to, it was muscle memory, heads turning, whispers sparking, phones quietly lifted.

Bucky felt his own gaze linger because of course he looked, everyone did, you couldn’t not, they were stunning, mythic, gorgeous, hot, the kind of people whose existence made you feel like you missed a memo on how to be human, he looked for a few seconds, maybe more and then he turned back.

Steve was still talking, completely unfazed, completely unaware that 99% of the room had shifted its orbit (he was the 1%), his eyes were bright, his voice low but animated, that faint half-smile tugging at his lips as he gestured with his glass, describing something about shadows and light, like the Asgardians hadn’t just walked in, like none of it mattered and like Bucky was the only person standing there.

And it hit him then, slow at first, then all at once, because Steve wasn’t pretending, it wasn’t indifference for the sake of coolness, or that too-casual shrug people used to look unaffected, Steve just wasn’t looking because he wasn’t interested.

He was focused, on him.

Bucky blinked, his throat going suddenly dry, Steve kept talking, completely oblivious to the way Bucky’s world had just turned a little.

His voice drifted, not because Steve was boring, but because Bucky couldn’t hear the words anymore, all he could hear was the rhythm, the warmth, the ease.

He looked around again, people leaning toward the Asgardians, cameras flashing, laughter rising in waves and then looked back at Steve, who was smiling, eyes bright, talking about how the human eye worked like a camera lens and how the brain edited images.

God… He was glowing, and Bucky felt it like a quiet punch to the gut.

This man, this golden, dorky man who had no idea how beautiful he was when he talked about the things he loved was sitting here looking at him like there wasn’t anyone else in the room and that… that did something dangerous.

Because for the first time in a long time, Bucky didn’t feel like the one commanding attention, he actually felt seen, and not for the image, not for the body or the face or the name, but for him.

Steve laughed at something he said, soft and genuine, head tilting back just a little and Bucky’s chest tightened, he should’ve laughed back, should’ve said something to keep it light, but instead, all he could do was look… Look at this man who didn’t seem to know he was quietly undoing him.

He felt his pulse climb, the air around him sharpening, it was stupid so stupid, Steve was just being Steve, kind, open, warm and friendly but that warmth… it was aimed right at him and suddenly it was too much.

He blinked hard, tried to shake it off, cleared his throat like he could clear the feeling away with it “You really don’t care that they’re here?” he asked, forcing a half-smile.

Steve blinked, a little confused at the interruption “Who?”

Bucky tilted his head toward the crowd “The Asgardians!! Everyone’s losing their minds”

Steve followed his gaze briefly, spotted them, nodded once like he was acknowledging the weather, and looked right back at Bucky.

“Yeah I know them, I’ve heard a song or two, they’re alright” he said simply, sipping his drink, that was it, no fanfare, no irony, just honesty, Steve really wasn’t interested… And that’s when it really hit him deep, right in the center of his chest, Steve wasn’t pretending that Bucky mattered in that moment, he was acting like he did.

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight, he tried to laugh, tried to breathe normally, tried to say something clever, but all that came out was a soft “You’re weird, Rogers”

Steve smiled “I’ve been told”

And Bucky laughed because that’s what he did, he laughed to hide the chaos, the warmth creeping under his skin and the strange flutter in his chest that felt dangerously close to something he swore he wouldn’t feel again, but as Steve went on talking, excited and alive and so genuinely present, Bucky found himself barely listening again.

He just watched, watched and wondered when the hell he started needing to see that smile.

Chapter Text

Bucky didn’t sleep that night, he left the party later than he meant to, after lingering a little too long beside Steve, after too many soft laughs and too many moments that felt like they shouldn’t have mattered but did.

It wasn’t like Steve did anything big, he didn’t flirt or say anything that could be twisted into something else, he was just there, steady and warm, listening like every word Bucky said was worth hearing and that was the problem, it was too normal and too easy and Bucky’s brain wouldn’t shut up.

He layed in bed, eyes on the ceiling and replaying everything from the very beginning, the first time they met, the met gala, that dinner, the awkward way Steve had smiled when he realized Bucky paid the bill and the way Steve looked up at him that day at the shoot, nervous but trying so hard to stay composed, or was Bucky now over analyzing?

He exhaled and rubbed his hands over his face, frustrated “Jesus, James” he muttered to himself “You’re losing it” because maybe he was.

He kept rewinding back to the moment at the people magazine shooting when Steve had gone quiet maybe he was anxious? It was all there, wasn’t it? The signs… The way Steve’s breath hitched… The way he looked at him… The way he smiled a little too much, a little too easily… Had that always been there? Had he been that blind?

Bucky turned over and groaned into his pillow “No, no, no, it’s all in your head” Because it had to be, Steve wasn’t… He didn’t… No… Steve was just being Steve, kind, respectful, thoughtful, professional... That’s who he was… That’s all it was.

He told himself that until morning, and when the morning came, he still didn’t believe it.

The next day, the world didn’t care that Bucky Barnes was spiraling, he was on set by nine, in makeup by ten, in front of a camera by eleven and the heat, the lights and the sound of the clapperboard felt distant.

He was supposed to be in the middle of an action scene, his heart was racing, his jaw was tight, shouting into a storm of chaos, but all he could think about was Steve’s voice low and calm, saying look this way, tilt your chin, good, that’s perfect, just like that, yes, smile for me…

He blinked, and the director yelled “Cut!!!! Barnes, that’s the third take you’ve missed the cue”

“Sorry” Bucky muttered, shaking his head, forcing a grin “I got it this time” and he didn’t.

By the fifth take, he had forgotten his line, by the seventh, he came in too early and by the ninth, he was staring at nothing when the explosion cue went off, barely reacting.

The director pinched the bridge of his nose “Okay! Let’s reset, everyone take five”

Bucky exhaled, stepped aside, ran a hand through his hair, someone handed him a water bottle that he didn’t even drink, because his mind wouldn’t stop looping the same images; Steve’s smile, Steve’s laugh, Steve’s voice…

And then that moment at the people magazine party, Steve’s face illuminated by warm light, that quiet intensity in his eyes and the way he looked at him like he was the only person in the room.

Bucky pressed his hand against his chest, as if he could calm the noise inside but he couldn’t, he was too aware now of the weight of every glance, every touch, every word they had exchanged, too aware that maybe, just maybe, something had always been there between them, and he was too stupid to see it.

He had been chasing noise, cameras, headlines, too used to people seeing the version of him they wanted and then there was Steve, seeing him, plain and simple, and now that he noticed it, he couldn’t unsee it.

When they tried to run the scene again, he missed another cue.

“Cut!” The director sighed, stepping closer this time “Barnes, are you okay? You’re off today”

“I’m fine” Bucky lied “Just a long night, couldn’t sleep”

“You’re distracted, you need a break”

“I don’t-”

“I said take a break” the director repeated, not unkindly “We’ll call it a day, go clear your head”

And just like that, the set began to scatter, lights dimming and crew and other actors packing up.

Bucky stood there for a long moment, watching everyone move around him like a blur and then he grabbed his jacket and walked out into the open air, his heart pounding.

He thought about Steve again and the way he looked at him across that crowded room like he was the only one worth looking at.

Maybe it was all in his head… Maybe he imagined it… But if it wasn’t… God help him… Because if it wasn’t, he didn’t know what to do with it.

The drive home felt endless, all the way, Bucky couldn’t shake the ghost of Steve’s laugh from his head, it kept replaying soft, genuine, the kind of sound that made the edges of his chest ache in a way he couldn’t name, he shouldn’t be thinking about it… He shouldn’t be thinking about him.

But the more he tried not to, the worse it got, every memory from the last few months awaken in his mind and maybe all this time, he had been missing something, yet again, he kept thinking what if he imagined it because he was lonely, and he had taken it for something it wasn’t?

“Don’t do this to yourself” he muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter “You’re seeing ghosts”

He dropped his keys on the counter as soon as he walked home and stood in the half-light for a long moment, trying to breathe, his reflection in the window stared back at him, the same face everyone in the world seemed to know, the same one plastered on billboards and magazine covers but right now, he barely recognized it.

“Hey” a voice called from behind him.

He turned, startled, Natasha stood in the doorway, barefoot, in one of his shirts, to her it was oversized, sleeves rolled to her elbows, her hair was up and her eyes sharp even in the dim light.

“You look like you’ve been run over” she said, crossing her arms.

“Long day” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

She tilted her head, studying him like she could read every lie in his posture “I heard” she said finally “You were trending again”

“Yeah” he said, half a laugh, half a sigh “That’s becoming a bad habit”

“Must’ve been some party”

He nodded faintly, sinking onto the couch “It was fine”

Natasha walked over, grabbed a bottle of water from the table, and sat across from him “Fine?” she echoed “You look like someone stole your puppy”

He smiled weakly “Didn’t know I had one”

“Metaphorically” she said dryly, taking a sip.

He chuckled because it was easier than explaining the truth, easier than admitting that a single look from Steve Rogers had left his world tilted at a strange, dangerous angle.

They sat in silence for a minute, then Natasha broke it, her voice calm but firm: “We need to talk about the wedding”

Bucky blinked “Right… Yeah... The wedding”

She was already scrolling through her phone, her tone was efficient and professional the way she always was when she was focused “The venue confirmed the new date, I told them we would finalize the guest list by Friday, but we still need to talk about seating and press access, Pepper wants to bring Tony and the kids, and he’s insisting on some ridiculous flower arrangement that costs more than a car” Bucky nodded automatically, mind miles away.

She kept talking about décor, music, photographers (God, even that word made his throat tighten), and everything else while he stared at her, the words washing over him motionless because right now, all he could think about was Steve.

“Bucky!!” Natasha’s voice snapped him back.

He looked up quickly “Sorry, what?”

She narrowed her eyes, then softened “You’re a million miles away, seriously are you okay?”

“Yeah” he lied “Just tired”

“Mm” She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press, instead, she gave him a small, almost fond smile “Get some rest, we’ve got a lot to handle these next couple weeks”

He nodded again “Yeah, I will”

She stood, brushing her hands against her shirt “You always say that and then never do!! Try, for once?”

“I’ll try” he said quietly.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, pressing a hand over his mouth as if to keep the storm inside from spilling out, his heart wouldn’t slow down and his head wouldn’t shut up… He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be feeling anymore guilt, confusion, longing, something sharper, something that felt too close to want, he pulled out his phone before he could stop himself, opened his messages, no new notifications, of course not.

He thought to himself, Steve wasn’t the type to reach out, h was too polite, too careful, too professional, he let out a shaky laugh “Professional” he echoed under his breath “Yeah, right”

“What did you say?” Natasha asked she now moved to the dining table, to the tablet now after her phone probably died, a dozen tabs glowing on the screen, florists, venues, seating charts, luxury event planners.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied, still on the couch, half-watching her work, half-lost in thought, she was scrolling quickly, fingers tapping the screen with practiced precision, when she suddenly paused.

“Oh” she said, brows lifting slightly “Your birthday’s next week”

He blinked, dragged back to the present “Huh?”

“Your birthday” she repeated, turning the screen toward him as if he forgot how to read dates “Next Friday”

“Oh” he said again, voice soft “Right”

“We should have a party” she said decisively “Something small but fun, you’ve been working nonstop, everyone has been tense and we could all use a night to unwind before the wedding”

Bucky hesitated, thumb brushing over the seam of his jeans “I don’t know, Nat, I’m not really in a-”

“Party mood?” she finished for him, smirking faintly “That’s exactly why you should!! Come on, it’ll be good for you, music, drinks, maybe invite some of your people, blow off some steam”

He tried to smile “You just want an excuse to order those ridiculous champagne towers again”

She didn’t deny it “You loved them last time”

“I loved watching Tony try to juggle three glasses at once” he muttered.

“There you go” she said, closing the tablet with a satisfied click “Laughter, fun!! Consider it the last celebration before the wedding chaos begins”

 “Yeah” he said finally, forcing a small smile “Why not”

“Good” Natasha stood, stretching “I’ll handle the details, you just show up”

He nodded, but the second she disappeared down the hallway, his smile vanished.

The house was quiet again too quiet, Bucky layed in bed staring at the ceiling, the glow from his phone screen washing pale light over his face, he tried to sleep, he really did, but his mind wouldn’t stop circling back to Steve.

He told himself he was just restless and that the party was coming up and maybe he should send a few invites.

But he knew exactly who he wanted to text first, and he hated himself a little for how badly he wanted to.

He opened his messages, scrolled down until he found Steve’s name, his fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time before he started typing.

hey, it’s my birthday next week.
nat’s throwing something. you should come.

He stared at it, reread it three times, too stiff too awkward too obvious, he deleted the whole thing and tried again.

having a small thing next week. my birthday.
nothing fancy, just people hanging out.
you should come if you’re free.

He sighed, it still sounded weird, he added:

no pressure though.

Then deleted that too.

For a second, he almost talked himself out of it entirely, I mean after all they weren’t that close, just work acquaintances and the party was small, just a few close friends and family.

Then he finally typed:

hey Steve, i’m having my birthday next friday, a small party, i’d like you to be there, if you can, nothing too fancy, and don’t stress yourself with a present, it’s okay, please consider.

He hit sent before he could change his mind, the message sat there, glowing faintly on the screen, and Bucky tossed the phone onto the nightstand like it had burned him.

“Great” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face “Real smooth, James”

He turned off the lamp and lay back, staring into the dark thinking, what if he actually shows up?

He was supposed to be the one everyone wanted, he was supposed to have everything, but tonight, all he wanted was one man’s voice in the dark and that was something even fame couldn’t buy.

Chapter Text

It’s Bucky’s birthday and Steve almost didn’t go

He woke up late after barely catching two hours of sleep and spent the rest of the morning pacing his apartment like a man preparing for a job interview instead of a birthday party.

Every shirt he owned suddenly looked wrong, too casual, too formal, too much like he was trying and he wasn’t sure who he was trying for, tho.

He settled, eventually, on something simple, a soft gray sweater, jeans and a black leather jacket that made him look put together without screaming “I planned this for an hour” He told himself it didn’t matter and that it was just a birthday, that Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice but his anxiety had other ideas.

Bucky’s place wasn’t a mansion, it was an apartment, it was just… nice and tasteful, the kind of place that said, I could buy something bigger, but I don’t need to prove anything, but the building itself stood in a quiet, tree-lined street, expensive, sure, but understated.

When Steve got out of the taxi, he could already hear faint music drifting from an open window, he hesitated at the door, gift bag in hand, and exhaled “You’re fine, Roger! It’s just a party”

The door opened before he even knocked.

“Steve!” Bucky’s grin was wide and immediate, his hair slightly messy, a drink already in his hand and his shirt was half unbuttoned effortlessly, unfairly charming and Steve had to remind himself to breathe.

“Hey” he managed “Happy birthday”

Bucky’s eyes softened “You came”

“Wouldn’t miss it” Steve said

And then Bucky hugged him no hesitation, his arm wrapping around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close, it was over too quickly.

“Come in, come in” Bucky said, leading him inside with a hand on his arm “There’s drinks in the kitchen, food’s everywhere, please make yourself at home”

The place was cozy but clearly expensive, he didn’t know anyone, of course just a few faces he’d seen before from Bucky’s social media and maybe an actor or two and of course Natasha! She was there, radiant in a sleek black dress, moving through the crowd like she owned it and when her eyes landed on Steve, she smiled politely, gave him a small wave and he waved back, awkwardly.

Bucky floated between people laughing, talking, easy charm lighting up the room but every few minutes, his gaze would drift back to Steve, checking in, making sure he wasn’t just standing in a corner alone and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Steve tried to blend in, smiling when someone asked if he was “Bucky’s new photographer friend” He nodded, tried not to let it show that he felt out of place.

Then Bucky appeared again, right beside him, out of nowhere “You good?” he asked, voice low, like it was meant only for Steve

“Yeah” Steve said, smiling

Bucky smirked “Don’t lie, I know you hate parties” Bucky said before being dragged away by someone calling his name from across the room and Steve stood there for a second, drink in hand, this close to sneaking out.

He really was trying to have a normal night, to just be there, as a friend, as a guest, to enjoy himself but every time Bucky’s voice floated through the crowd Steve’s focus shifted, his heart leaning toward it like it had nowhere else to go, and every time Bucky’s eyes found his across the room, Steve knew he’d never stood a chance.

The night rolled on easily after that, drinks, music, laughter and Steve loosened up a little, started smiling for real, maybe it was the alcohol but he found himself laughing more than he expected, especially when Bucky pulled him into a small group to introduce him to everyone properly.

Then came the cake, someone dimmed the lights and someone else started singing, it was ridiculous and loud and perfect like those birthday moments you only see in commercials, Bucky stood in the center, cheeks slightly pink, smiling so wide Steve could feel the warmth of it from across the room.

When the candles went out and the clapping faded into the sound of glasses clinking and music starting again, Natasha appeared beside Bucky, handing him the first gift, and soon enough there was a small pile in front of him.

Watches, perfumes, designer sunglasses, limited edition clothes, everything expensive, everything expected while Steve stood near the back, feeling a little self-conscious about his small, neatly wrapped box.

Bucky tore through the mountain of glittering paper with good humor, thanking everyone with that easy charm of his but when Natasha pushed Steve forward, saying “There’s one more” Bucky’s eyes found him instantly.

“From you?”

Steve nodded, offering the box “Yeah, uh- happy birthday”

The room didn’t fall silent exactly, but it felt like it, Bucky’s fingers brushed Steve’s as he took it, and Steve’s pulse jumped hard.

Bucky peeled the paper carefully, of course he did, and when he opened the box, he froze.

Inside was a book, old, leather-bound, its spine gently cracked from time, the gold lettering still shining faintly under the light, A first edition.

Steve watched the realization hit him and the shift in his face from curiosity to shock to something soft and wordless.

“You’re kidding me” Bucky whispered “Is this?”

“Yeah” Steve said quietly “First edition, took a bit of digging but I know some people”

Bucky blinked, stunned, holding it like it was fragile “How- how did you even know?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit “I, uh… I have a confession”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky’s smile twitched, confused but touched.

Steve swallowed “I’m kind of a huge fan of yours actually and I might’ve… watched a few interviews, you mentioned it once, that it was your favorite book, but you could never find a physical copy because they kept selling out and you said you hated reading on screens, so”

For a moment, Bucky didn’t say anything, he just looked at him really looked, eyes flicking over Steve’s face like he was seeing him differently for the first time “You remembered that?” he said finally, voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

Steve shrugged, eyes dropping “Guess it stuck with me”

Bucky’s fingers traced the cover gently, and then he looked up again, smiling slow, genuine and a little shy in a way Steve had never seen before.

“This is…” he started, then stopped, exhaled “Steve, this is honestly one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten my entire life, I don’t even know what to say”

“You don’t have to” Steve said, smiling softly “Just… glad you like it”

“Like it?” Bucky shook his head, still grinning in disbelief “You just made my entire year”

The room had gone back to its noise, music, laughter… But for a few seconds, it was like none of that existed just Bucky sitting there with the book in his hands, and Steve standing a few feet away, heart full and aching all at once and when Bucky looked at him again, smile still lingering but eyes softer now, more searching, Steve had to look away, pretending to sip his drink, pretending his heart wasn’t completely gone.

The party had begun to fade, Steve found himself on the balcony, the night air cool against his skin, he took a deep breath and leaned on the railing, letting the noise behind him blur into a distant hum, he wasn’t sure why his heart was still racing, maybe from the drinks, maybe from Bucky.

He promised himself not to think about it, not about how Bucky’s hand brushed his shoulder when he’d thanked him for coming, not about how he hugged him, not about every time he smiled, not about every time they were close Steve forgot the rest of the room existed.

The sliding door opened softly behind him “You’re hiding out here”

Steve turned slightly, half-expecting someone else, but of course it was him, Bucky stepped out, two glasses in hand, the kind of easy smile that felt like sunlight and trouble all at once “Thought I’d find you here” he said, offering him a drink.

Steve took it, fingers brushing Bucky’s and that single touch burned.

“Just needed some air” Steve said, smiling faintly.

“Yeah, me too” They stood side by side, shoulders almost touching “Thanks again for the book” Bucky said after a moment, his voice softer now “You didn’t have to do that”

“I wanted to” Steve turned, leaning his elbow on the railing “You mentioned it once and I figured it was worth the hunt”

Bucky looked at him and Steve felt pinned under that gaze “Can’t believe you… remembered that from an interview from like five years ago”

Steve smiled shyly “Guess I’m more observant than I seem”

Bucky shook his head “No, you listened and that’s rarer than you think, it means so much to me” He smiled at him that soft, genuine smile that made Steve’s chest tighten and for a moment, Steve forgot how to breathe.

Then Bucky frowned slightly, stepping a bit closer “Hold still” he said, and before Steve could ask why, Bucky reached up, his fingers brushed through Steve’s hair, gentle, careful “You’ve got, uh- confetti or glitter, whatever the hell this is, I asked Nat not to bring those, they’re a nightmare to clean” he murmured, his voice close, low.

Steve was frozen, Bucky’s touch was light, his fingers threading through the strands of his hair, brushing against his temple and the warmth of it lingered, burned, even.

“There” Bucky said, his hand hovering a moment too long before he pulled it back, but his eyes stayed on Steve’s face, tracking the lines, the way the city lights caught the edge of his jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks and then, God help him, Bucky smiled again, softer this time, almost shy and Steve could feel the world narrow and the air thick between them, he didn’t know who moved first, maybe it was both of them, but suddenly they were closer, close enough that he could see the reflection of the city lights in Bucky’s eyes and he could smell the faint scent of his cologne, Bucky’s gaze flickered down, from Steve’s eyes, to his mouth, then back up again and neither of them looked away.

Bucky’s hand lifted slightly, hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to but Steve didn’t move back, he didn’t even breathe, his heart was beating so fast and loud he could hear it in his ears, as Bucky’s fingers brushed his jaw, thumb over the corner of his mouth like a question, and Steve’s lips parted, involuntarily, and the distance between them disappeared to almost nothing, he could feel Bucky’s breath.

“Bucky…” Steve whispered, though he didn’t know what he was going to say.

It was going to happen… It was happening.

Until-

“Bucky!”

The word sliced through the moment like glass.

They both jerked back, Steve blinking hard, the air instantly cold where Bucky’s hand had been.

Pepper stood in the doorway, cheerful and oblivious “Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart! Before your friend leaves, could you ask him something real quick?”

Bucky stepped away, his voice rough “Uh… yeah, what’s up?”

She smiled at Steve, tablet in hand “We’ve been trying to find a wedding photographer, everyone’s booked, and Natasha mentioned you are a photographer, I’m not sure if you would do weddings but we have no choice, would you be interested?”

For a second, Steve couldn’t even form words… Wedding.

The syllables landed like a stone in his chest.

“Oh” he managed, forcing a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes “Uh, yeah… It’s been awhile since I did weddings, but sure, why not… Bucky, just text me the details, okay?” Bucky nodded slowly, still looking at him like he wanted to say something else but didn’t “Right” Steve said, stepping away, hands shoved in his pockets “It’s late, I should go, happy birthday again”

He gave a faint smile to Pepper, who thanked him warmly, and then he was gone, he didn’t remember the elevator ride, or the streetlights outside, or how long it took to get home, he only remembered the way Bucky had looked at him, the way he almost kissed him, and the way it all shattered with one word… Wedding.

What the hell had that been?

He wasn’t imagining it, he knew he wasn’t, there was something there, until that single word crashed it all down… Wedding.

His stomach turned, he could still hear Pepper’s voice so clearly, cheerful and casual as if she hadn’t just shattered the world he was quietly, foolishly building in his head.

A wedding… Their wedding.

He laughed softly, but it wasn’t amused, it was tired, bitter “Of course” he muttered under his breath, of course Bucky was getting married, of course he’d misunderstood.

The hand on his jaw, maybe it was friendly, maybe it was just the drinks, the warmth, the party atmosphere, people got close, people made mistakes… But still… he felt it.

And if that was all in his head, if that was his own wishful thinking twisting things into something they weren’t, then he really needed to get a grip.

He saw the rumors online, everyone had, Bucky and Natasha, the golden pair, they looked good together, too, beautiful, composed, private but public enough to make it seem real, and Pepper just confirmed it… They’re engaged… They’re getting married.

So why the hell had he almost- Steve stopped mid-step, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath that trembled on the way out.

It didn’t make sense, none of it did.

He leaned against the kitchen island, head in his hands, the silence of the apartment pressed in on him, he tried to reason with himself, he told himself maybe it wasn’t a real lean-in, maybe he was too close, maybe he imagined the angle of Bucky’s face, the intent in his eyes, maybe it was all just- God, who was he kidding?

He spent the whole night pretending his pulse didn’t spike every time Bucky looked at him, he spent the night convincing himself he wasn’t falling harder with every second, and now he was standing here, feeling like a fool.

Because of course someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t single, of course someone like Bucky wouldn’t be interested in him, someone like Bucky belonged with someone like Natasha, sharp, confident, stunning, she fit his world, she fit him, and Steve… didn’t.

He dragged himself to the shower, hoping the water would wash away whatever this ache in his chest was but of course it didn’t.

And when he finally collapsed into bed, still damp, still overthinking, the ceiling felt too far away, the sheets felt too warm.

He stared into the dark and whispered to no one “Why would you almost kiss me if you’re getting married?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered, impossible, and heavier than it should have been.

Chapter Text

He was still lying in his bed, replaying it in his head: the warmth of Bucky’s hand in his hair, the way his breath had hitched, the way their eyes met before everything fell apart.

He felt it, that pull, that spark… and now he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Get a grip” he muttered under his breath.

He spent years teaching himself to keep things in check, to separate feeling from function, and recently he kept reminding himself that whatever he was feeling for Bucky was nothing and that he didn’t stand a chance and yet one near-kiss from Bucky Barnes had undone all of it in seconds.

His phone buzzed, he thought, stupidly, it might be Sam, maybe a late-night check-in or some meme he wanted to share, anything to pull him out of this haze, but it wasn’t Sam.

It was Bucky… Steve’s heart stuttered as he opened the message.

‘hey, sorry for the late text, hope you got home safe! listen, about what Pepper said earlier, I talked to Nat, and we both think you’d be perfect for it.

it’s next Saturday, private beach house on this island Tony owns. nothing huge, just close friends.

I got you the flight and ferry tickets already. please don’t tell anyone, it’s under wraps for obvious reasons.

and don’t worry, no NDA or any of that crap. I trust you.

if it were anyone else, I’d make them sign papers, but you, I know you’ll handle it right.’

Steve read it twice, then a third time, his stomach dropped, the phone was heavy in his hand.

He could picture it, white chairs on the sand, waves rolling in soft and slow, Natasha in something elegant and timeless, and Bucky waiting for her at the end of the aisle, smiling that soft, crinkled smile that hoped one day might be meant for him, only in the fleeting corners of his imagination.

He let out a shaky laugh, dragging a hand down his face “Of course” he whispered.

Because of course he’d be the one behind the lens, the one who’d have to frame it, light it, immortalize it, the one who’d have to capture that look in Bucky’s eyes, the one who’d have to hand over those photographs and pretend they didn’t feel like a knife turning under his ribs.

He stared at the message for a long time, every part of him screamed to say no, to make up an excuse, to run… But there it was again, Bucky’s voice in his head: I trust you.

And that trust, that unguarded sincerity, was the one thing Steve could never say no to, so he typed back, his fingers trembling slightly.

‘Got the message. Congratulations. I’ll be there.’

“Next Saturday” he whispered again, like saying it out loud might make it more real but it didn’t.

He closed his eyes, breathing through the ache, trying to convince himself that he could do this, that he could stand there with a camera between them and pretend it didn’t break him, because if he didn’t… someone else would.
And the idea of someone else being there, someone else watching Bucky smile like that, catching it in a frame, that, somehow, hurt even worse.

So he did what he always did, he swallowed the ache, buried the longing, and reached for his calendar to mark the date.

He would go… He would do the job and he would make it perfect.

Even if it destroyed him.

Steve didn’t sleep the night before.

He packed and repacked three times, double-checked his camera gear, lenses, batteries, memory cards anything to keep his hands busy while his brain screamed, by 6 a.m., his apartment was spotless, his bags sat by the door, perfectly aligned with his shoes and still, his heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

He kept telling himself it was just another job, but every time he looked at the flight confirmation email from James B. Barnes, something twisted deeper inside his chest.

The clock ticked closer to eight, his assistant, Wanda, was supposed to meet him downstairs soon and ten minutes before she arrived, he dialed Bucky’s number, it rang twice.

Then that familiar voice answered, low and warm, a little raspy from sleep probably “Steve? Hey, everything okay?”

Steve gripped the phone tighter, staring at the window “Yeah, hey” Steve said, his voice coming out steadier than he felt “Just wanted to check something about the shoot today”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I, uh-” He paused, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck “Would it be okay if I brought my assistant along? There might be a few moments where having both video and still coverage could help, you know, make it smoother, give you more options later, I figured it’d be good to have another pair of hands”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then Bucky, light and easy as ever “Of course, bring her, hell, I’ll cover her tickets, don’t even worry about it”

Steve blinked, a little stunned “You don’t have to-”

“I want to” Bucky’s tone softened, the way it always did when he was being too generous for his own good “You’re doing me a favor being there at all, so let me return it a little, yeah?”

Steve swallowed hard, trying to keep his breathing even “Thanks, I just didn’t want to show up with someone unannounced”

“Don’t be ridiculous” Bucky laughed “It’s fine, the more the merrier, I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“Yeah” Steve said quietly “In a few hours”

“Cool... And hey, Rogers?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re coming”

Steve forced a smile he knew Bucky couldn’t see “Yeah” he said, voice catching just slightly “Me too”

When the call ended, he set the phone down and just stood there, staring at nothing for a long minute, his chest felt too tight, his pulse too fast.

He didn’t just need Wanda to help him, he needed her to be there to ground him, someone to keep him professional.

The island looked like something out of a magazine spread, white sand, glassy blue water, and every inch of the beach house, mansion actually, wrapped in flowing linen and flowers.

Steve stepped out of the car that was waiting for him at the dock, with his camera bag slung across his shoulder, other bag in hand, the sun was hitting his face in a way that made everything almost too bright, Wanda let out a low whistle beside him.

“Wow!! This is… unreal” she said, taking it all in, the white chairs lined up perfectly on the deck, the string lights swaying gently in the ocean breeze, the faint sound of soft jazz playing somewhere in the background.

Steve tried to smile, tried to let himself appreciate the beauty of it all, but there was something in his chest that wouldn’t settle, everything was too perfect, every corner screamed money and taste and effortless charm, just like Bucky.

Before he could take another step, a familiar voice called out “Steve! Oh thank god you’re here” Pepper Potts was practically running toward him, clipboard in hand, phone pressed between her shoulder and ear, she ended the call midwalk, already gesturing for him to follow “We need you upstairs now!! The bride’s ready for solo shots before guests start arriving”

Steve blinked, nodding quickly, his instincts kicking in “Of course, yeah, let me just-”

“Camera, light, whatever you need” Pepper cut in, already turning on her heel “She’s in the main suite”

Wanda gave Steve a quick reassuring smile and followed him inside.

The suite was drenched in sunlight, white curtains moving softly against the windows, and there she was, Natasha Romanoff, standing by the mirror in a gown so simple yet so devastatingly beautiful that even Steve forgot to breathe for a moment.

Her dress was all clean lines and soft silk, fitted perfectly, and her wavy hair was pinned just loosely enough to look effortless.

When she turned and saw them, she smiled, genuine and warm “Steve! You made it”

“Wouldn’t miss it” he said, his voice a little too tight around the edges, he lifted his camera slightly, forcing a grin “You look… wow”

Natasha laughed lightly “Thank you!! We wanted everything to be simple and elegant”

Pepper was flipping through her notes, muttering something about timing and sunlight, but Natasha’s eyes sparkled when she added “He’s wearing white too, the groom, with a red bow tie to match my hair”

Steve’s stomach flipped, he laughed softly, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow as it felt “That’s… yeah, that’s perfect”

The photo session began, soft directions, the occasional compliment from Wanda who was absolutely enchanted by Natasha’s grace, Steve did what he always did best, focused through the lens, captured the light, found the angles.

But every time he looked through the viewfinder, something twisted deeper in him… She looked radiant, yes, but she also looked right… Like she belonged in this perfect frame.

And the thought that Bucky being the one standing next to her an hour from now made something in him ache in a way he couldn’t name.

Then, as Pepper checked her watch for the fifth time, she frowned “Where’s Bucky? We’re running behind schedule, we can’t start without him!!”

One of the people nearby chimed in “He’s not answering his phone, he was supposed to be here half an hour ago”

A wave of uncertainty passed through the room, Natasha’s expression stayed calm, but her eyes flicked toward the door once, quick and unreadable.

Steve froze for a heartbeat, lowering his camera, where was Bucky? And he wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.

The sun had started to dip lower, painting the horizon in soft gold and pink, guests had begun to murmur among themselves, exchanging polite smiles and checking watches, the soft music looped again, for maybe the third time.

They were back inside the suite, Pepper was pacing, trying not to look stressed but absolutely failing at it, Natasha, calm as ever, stood near the window overlooking the ocean, her hands gently folded in front of her bouquet, every so often, she would glance toward the path leading up from the docks.

Steve stood behind his camera, pretending to check his lighting, though he hadn’t taken a single picture in the last ten minutes.

Then, finally, a distant voice cut through the chatter “Bucky’s here!”

Heads turned all at once, and Steve did too.

And there he was, Bucky Barnes, walking briskly down the sand path, wind in his hair, suit slightly unbuttoned from the rush, apology already in his eyes, but it wasn’t the suit that got Steve’s attention, it was the color… Black… Not white... Not even close.

For a second, Steve thought maybe he was seeing wrong, the light, the shadows, the glare off the sea, or his contacts were malfunctioning,  But no, Bucky was absolutely in a black tuxedo.

Steve blinked, confusion hitting him like a wave, Natasha had said the groom would be wearing white, with a red bow tie, to match her hair.

So… what the hell was happening?

Bucky finally walked into the suite, reached Pepper first, slightly out of breath, holding out two small velvet boxes like they were a peace offering “Pepper, I’m so sorry, I missed the ferry, my phone died, total mess, here, take these”

She exhaled in relief, taking the boxes from him like they were priceless “You’re just in time, I was about to send a boat”

Bucky gave her a quick grin and turned toward Natasha “Hey, Nat” he said, pulling her into a brief hug “You look incredible”

“You’re late” she teased softly, though there was fondness in her voice.

He laughed under his breath “Yeah, but I’m not the one who forgot the rings in New York!” then clapped his hands together “Alright, chop chop, let’s go! We can’t keep the groom waiting on the aisle, right?” The words landed like a blast, Steve froze… Wait… The groom… The groom waiting on the aisle.

He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, just stood there, camera hanging loosely at his side, his brain trying to stitch the pieces together, and he realized he really didn’t pay attention to where the wedding was taking place, he was only focused on doing his job while trying not to break, he just stood there.

They were outside now, Pepper was already motioning for the bridesmaids to line up, guests straightened and the ceremony music shifted.

And Steve, again, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t think, he just stared at Bucky, whose grin was bright, easy, like this was just another perfect day in his perfect life, then Bucky turned, eyes sweeping over the crowd and found him.

A flash of surprise lit his face, followed by a warmth that nearly knocked the air out of Steve’s lungs and without hesitation, Bucky crossed the space between them, ignoring the bustle around them, and pulled Steve into a hug.

“Hey, you made it” he said, his voice low and real against Steve’s ear “Thank you for this!! Really”

Steve couldn’t form words, his hands came up automatically, one resting awkwardly against Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky pulled back, still holding his gaze, a half-smile tugging at his lips “Now come on, we can’t keep the guests and Clint waiting”

And just like that, he was gone again, walking off toward the ceremony setup.

Steve, still, stayed rooted to the spot, blinking after him, heart pounding, Clint, the groom, not Bucky.

Relief washed through him, unsteady and dizzying, chased by something else, something quieter, more dangerous.

Because now that he knew Bucky wasn’t the one getting married…
he had no idea what to do with the rush of hope that suddenly bloomed in his chest.

The reception glowed under a sea of fairy lights, the air was soft, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, and the sound of the waves brushing the sand just beyond the terrace, Steve had taken more photos than he could count, smiling guests, tearful vows, candid moments but now his camera hung around his neck, forgotten.

He was watching Bucky for the last ten minutes, standing by the bar, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled, his bowtie long abandoned, the black tuxedo suited him far too well, and the light played along the sharp lines of his face, he looked at ease, at home, like the night belonged to him.

Steve wasn’t sure what possessed him to walk over, maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the fact that his heart had been doing somersaults since Bucky first showed up.

Either way, he found himself standing next to him before he had time to reconsider and Bucky noticed right away, turning with that easy grin that hit Steve square in the chest “Hey, Rogers!! You survived the chaos”

Steve chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck “Barely”

Bucky handed him a glass of champagne “You earned it, man!! Those shots are gonna make Nat cry happy tears”

Steve hesitated, then took the glass, the bubbles tickled his lip. “Bucky, I-uh, I gotta tell you something… Just-don’t laugh, okay?”

Bucky raised a brow, already smiling “No promises, but shoot”

Steve inhaled deeply “I thought… it was your wedding” For a moment, silence, then, Bucky’s laugh exploded out of him, loud and unrestrained, the kind that turned heads, Steve groaned, covering his face “I told you not to laugh!”

Bucky was practically doubled over, holding his stomach “Oh my god, you thought it was my wedding?”

“Yeah” Steve muttered, cheeks red.

Bucky tried to breathe, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “Steve! Steve, sweetheart, did I once tell you it was my wedding?”

“Well, no, but-”

Bucky straightened, still grinning, brushing a hand through his hair “Oh, right, you probably saw all those rumors online, huh?” Steve froze, glass halfway to his lips, Bucky leaned closer “You’re a fan, right? You must’ve lurked around, seen people talking about me and Nat”

Steve gave a nervous laugh “Maybe”

Bucky smirked. “Thought so” He took a sip of his drink before continuing, tone turning softer “Nat and I, we’ve known each other since we were kids, went to acting school together, she’s like family… People started talking, you know how it is, and we figured why not let them? It gave us press, we didn’t even have to say a word, so we just…” He shrugged “Played along…We used to laugh about it after every interview, it’s honestly wild no one ever had the guts to ask us outright, yet the headlines would be all over the next day!” He laughed again, shaking his head “I can’t believe you, Rogers, you actually thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it” Steve said, laughing now too, the tension finally cracking open into something warm and easy “It’s funny, I know”

Bucky looked at him, smile still tugging at his lips but eyes suddenly softer “If it was my wedding” he said, voice dipping low “you think you’d be the photographer?”

Steve frowned slightly, unsure where he was going with this “Well, yeah, why not-”

“No” Bucky interrupted, grin faltering just a little “You’d be… I don’t know, the best man or maybe-” He hesitated, words catching in his throat “Maybe somebody else… Something more”

The air shifted, Steve looked at him, eyes wide, trying to figure out if he meant what it sounded like he meant.

Bucky blinked, color rising in his cheeks, and immediately looked away “Anyway!” he said, too loud “You want another drink? They’ve got this insane dessert table, you gotta try it”

Steve smiled faintly, both amused and dazed “Yeah! Sure”

They moved toward the dessert table, shoulder to shoulder, and neither of them mentioned what had just slipped out between them.

But Steve could feel it lingering in the air, something raw, unspoken, fragile, and he knew Bucky felt it too.

By the time the party started to fade, Steve realized that he managed to stay near Bucky more than he probably should’ve, helping with little things, fetching drinks, exchanging quiet jokes, it had felt normal, easy, but now, as the last of the guests drifted off to their rooms and the fairy lights flickered over empty glasses, the exhaustion hit him like a wave, he found himself walking with Wanda to the room he was supposed to be staying in for the night, Wanda yawned beside him, clutching her phone.

“So” she said, looking around the hallway lined with doors “are we… sharing? Because I don’t mind, but I snore a lot”

Steve smiled, rubbing a hand over his face “Yeah, about that… They didn’t exactly plan for last-minute plus-ones, so I guess we’ll-”

He stopped mid-sentence when a voice came from behind him, warm and teasing “She can take your room, Rogers”

Steve turned, and there he was, Bucky, leaning against the doorframe, still in his tux, bow tie loose around his neck, shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair tousled in that way that made Steve’s stomach twist.

“What?” Steve asked, blinking, trying to keep his face neutral.

Bucky grinned “You heard me, she can take your room, you can crash with me, my suite is bigger, and it’s got two beds”

He said it so casually, but there was something behind the words, a spark of mischief, or maybe something else entirely, or maybe Steve was just imagining it.

Wanda immediately said “Oh! Really? That would be amazing!! Thank you, Mr. Barnes”

“Bucky” he corrected with a wink “And no problem”

Steve hesitated “You sure? I don’t wanna-”

“Rogers” Bucky interrupted, walking closer “It’s fine, I offered, didn’t I?”

Steve swallowed hard “Yeah… Right”

Wanda handed Steve his bags, already halfway down the hall “You two have fun with your luxury suite!” she called, laughing, disappearing into the room.

“Great” Steve muttered, mostly to himself.

Bucky gestured for him to follow “Come on, let's go, it's upstairs”

The suite really was big, floor-to-ceiling windows and also a patio door to a very large terrace balcony, opening onto the ocean, white curtains fluttering, two massive beds draped in crisp linen.

It smelled faintly of salt, cologne, and something sharp and clean that was unmistakably Bucky.

Steve set his bags down carefully by the door “This is… nice”

“Yeah” Bucky said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over a chair “Tony knows how to host, even the towels are stupidly soft”

Steve tried to laugh, but his voice came out thinner than he’d like “Of course they are”

He turned his back for a moment, trying to breathe normally, it shouldn’t feel this charged, it was just two beds, just two friends, but all he could think about was how close they’d been on that balcony that night and how Bucky had leaned in…

“Hey” Bucky said softly, breaking through his thoughts “You okay?”

Steve turned, Bucky was standing closer now, too close “Yeah” he managed “Just tired”

Bucky nodded, gaze lingering a beat too long, then he smiled again, lighter “Cool, you take that bed, I snore like hell, so you’ll thank me later”

Steve smiled back, forcing the air out of his lungs slowly“Noted”

He started unpacking his bags just to do something, feeling Bucky’s presence behind him like static, the room was quiet except for the sound of waves outside and every second stretched.

After he took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes Bucky flopped onto his bed with a sigh, one arm over his face “Man, what a day”

“Yeah” Steve said softly, glancing at him.

“Thanks again” Bucky murmured half asleep “For the photos, for showing up, for… everything”

Steve looked at him, really looked, and for a heartbeat, the world tilted again, the soft lamplight caught on the line of Bucky’s jaw, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the little curve of a tired smile.

He should say something, anything; but instead, he nodded “Anytime, Buck”

Bucky peeked at him from under his arm and smiled “Night, Rogers”

“Night”

Steve also took a quick shower, changed, lay down on his own bed, staring up at the ceiling, heart hammering so hard it hurt.

Two beds… One room… And absolutely no chance of sleep.

And that’s what happened, Steve couldn’t sleep.

He tried, lying still in that huge, too-soft bed while the sound of waves rolled against the shore outside but every time he closed his eyes, his brain replayed the same impossible truth, he was sharing a room with Bucky Barnes.

Not just sharing a room, sleeping barely ten feet away from him.

He turned onto his side, stared at the empty space between the two beds, and bit back a laugh that sounded more like disbelief than amusement, he could see Bucky’s silhouette in the dim light, sprawled across the mattress, one arm flung over his chest, breathing slow and even, completely at peace.

Meanwhile, Steve’s heart was doing gymnastics, he pulled his phone off the nightstand, thumb over Sam’s name in his messages, he could almost hear Sam’s voice in his head You what? You’re rooming with him? Rogers, that’s not pining anymore, that’s a medical condition.

Steve groaned quietly and tossed the phone aside, nope, no way he was giving Sam that satisfaction.

He slipped out of bed instead, padding quietly across the room toward the glass patio doors that led to the balcony.

The air outside was cool, the horizon was shifting, the inky black of night softening into faint gold, it was that fragile, suspended hour before sunrise, when the world held its breath.

He leaned against the railing, watching the faint light gather across the waves, feeling impossibly small and impossibly alive, his thoughts drifted to what happened earlier, the wedding, the reception, the laughter, the way Bucky’s eyes had lingered on him more than once, or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The voice was low, rough from sleep, and far too close.

He turned, heart skipping a beat, Bucky stood in the doorway, barefoot, wearing nothing but sweats and a worn white t-shirt, his hair messy and falling into his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to wake you” Steve said quietly.

Bucky stepped closer, hands in his pockets, eyes catching the faint light of dawn “You didn’t, I woke up to get some water and saw your bed empty, figured you’d be out here brooding”

Steve huffed a small laugh “Yeah, well, old habits”

For a moment, they just stood there, the ocean whispering below them, then Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying him “You know” he said, voice soft “you really do look better with your glasses”

Steve blinked “What?”

Bucky smiled “I mean it, I guess I already told you before, it’s true, you’ve got that whole… professor thing going on, makes you look like you, and I was kinda bumped today that you didn’t wear them, you should never replace them with contacts again”

Steve felt heat crawl up his neck “You’re saying that like I look awful now”

Bucky chuckled “Nah, you look… different, I just-” he hesitated, gaze flickering down, then back up “I like the glasses better”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it was heavy, Steve laughed softly, because he didn’t know what else to do with the tension buzzing in his veins “What? Do I have confetti in my hair again?”

Bucky’s lips curved, slow and sure “Yeah” he murmured, taking a step closer “Something like that”

Steve’s breath caught “Bucky-”

“Let’s pick up where we left off that night shall we?” Bucky said, barely above a whisper.

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t careful or tentative, it was something that had been waiting, simmering for too long… Bucky’s hand came up to the side of Steve’s face, thumb brushing his jaw, and for a moment the world narrowed to the sound of the ocean, the warmth of his mouth, and the impossible fact that this was happening.

Steve’s fingers curled in the fabric of Bucky’s shirt, steadying himself, grounding himself, because everything inside him felt like it was dissolving, and when they finally pulled apart, breathless, neither of them spoke, the sun was breaking over the horizon, painting the waves in gold.

Bucky’s forehead rested against Steve’s and his voice came out rough, like it cost him something “Guess I was wrong” he said softly “You look pretty damn good without the glasses too”

Steve laughed, weak and dazed, and didn’t trust himself to answer and for the first time in months, maybe years, he didn’t need to.

Bucky’s thumb brushed over his cheek again, gentle, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go, his gaze flicked from Steve’s eyes to his mouth and back again, searching, steady and unbearably soft.

Then he leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, a kiss that wasn’t about surprise or tension or finally breaking through, just warmth, just want.

When he pulled back, Bucky smiled, that quiet kind of smile that never quite reached his mouth but always filled his eyes.

“Let’s go get some sleep” he murmured, voice low “You really need it” He slid his hand down, fingers brushing Steve’s wrist, and tugged him gently toward the room and Steve followed without a word, too full of everything to speak.

Inside, the light was dim, soft blue spilling in through the curtains, the beds waited, but when Bucky stopped beside his own, he hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder.

“You can… stay here, if you want” he said, quiet but sure “The other bed’s freezing anyway”

Steve’s breath caught again and before he could talk himself out of it, he nodded, Bucky lifted the blanket for him, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Steve slid in beside him and the sheets were warm from Bucky’s body, smelling faintly of something that was just him.

For a moment they just lay there, facing opposite directions, both aware of the space between them, then Steve shifted, barely, and Bucky followed, their backs touching, then their shoulders, then finally Bucky turned and his arm slipped around him.

No words, no questions, just the soft rhythm of their breathing syncing and the weight of the night finally lifting.

Steve closed his eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s chest against his back, he thought maybe he should say something about the kiss, about how he felt, about how none of this made sense and yet it did but before he could, Bucky’s voice came, soft and almost unclear with sleep.

“Sleep, Stevie... We’ll figure it out later” And somehow, that was enough.

Steve smiled against the pillow, his hand brushing over Bucky’s where it rested on his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, he fell asleep easily like the world was quiet again, and both of them, for reasons neither dared to name yet, slept better than they had in years.

Chapter Text

Steve woke up slowly, not because of an alarm, not even because of sunlight, he woke up because there was a warm weight draped over his waist, a steady breath against the back of his neck and a strong arm curled possessively around him with fingers brushing the faint outline of his ribs even in sleep… Bucky.

Steve smiled into the pillow, they kissed!! God, they kissed for real and not a hesitant brush, not a question, not a test but a real kiss, full, breathless, every-emotion-we’ve-been-hiding kind of kiss.

Steve shifted a little and felt the arm around his waist tighten immediately, Bucky muffled, half asleep “Don’t you dare move, I’m comfortable”

Steve laughed softly “Bucky, it’s noon”

A low groan directly into Steve’s shoulder “Good, that means I get to keep you hostage longer” he nuzzled the back of Steve’s neck, his lips warm against the skin.

Steve’s breath hitched “You’re awfully clingy, are you always like this when you wake up?”

“Nah, only when it’s ‘post-night-of-kissing-my-crush’ time”

Steve blushed so hard he hid his face in the pillow, Bucky shifted, sliding closer, chest against Steve’s back now, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to Steve’s shoulder, then another to the side of his throat, each one soft, unhurried, sleepy.

Steve rolled onto his back, and Bucky immediately took the opportunity to slide one leg between his, arm thrown over him like Bucky owned the bed, owned the space, owned him.

Blue eyes blink open, soft, messy, absolutely devastatingly beautiful “Come here”

And before Steve could even respond, Bucky leaned down and kissed him, it was nothing like last night’s desperate, finally-letting-go kiss, this one was slow and sweet… A gentle press of lips, then another, then a smile against Steve’s mouth when Steve lifted his hand to cup Bucky’s cheek.

Steve felt like he was floating “Hi” he whispered

“Hi” a kiss “Good morning” another kiss “or afternoon or whatever the time is” another kiss.

Steve opened his mouth to say something but Bucky’s phone vibrated violently on the nightstand and he ignored it, kissing Steve again “Buck-”

“No!” Another buzz and another.

Steve laughed breathlessly “Maybe it’s important”

“I doubt it, it’s probably someone sending memes in the group chat again” another buzz and now it was nonstop, Bucky groaned dramatically, rolled over Steve like a cat refusing to move, and reached blindly for the phone, he squinted at the screen “It’s Tony” he sits up “Oh great, a voice message, that means chaos”

Tony’s voice exploded into the quiet room at full volume “GOOD MORNING, LOVERS AND LOSERS, rise and shine! It’s BRUNCH O’CLOCK! I HAVE BAD NEWS AND GOOD NEWS!!” Steve and Bucky stare at each other “First announcement: Good news, bride and groom are OFFICIALLY honeymooning through Europe!! Yes, they left!! Yes, they’re happy!! Yes, they made out in the car!! Yes, it was gross!! Moving on” Bucky rubbed his face “Second announcement: Bad news for literally everyone except me, there’s a massive storm hitting New York, like, airport-shutting, flight-canceling ‘nature hates your plans’ level storm”

Steve sits up quickly “What?”

“Sooo you’re all stuck here on the island for a few more days! Congratulations, you’re temporarily residents!” They both looked at each other at the same time “House is stocked, fridge is stocked, and if anyone wants anything extra, you can walk down to the village shops, ferries run every two hours to the main city, OR, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, you can borrow my yacht, try not to sink it, please, it was expensive” A pause “BRUNCH!! LIVING ROOM!! FIFTEEN MINUTES and if you’re not here, I’m sending Rhodey to drag you out of bed” The message ended.

Bucky dropped the phone on the bed, Steve stared at him, wide-eyed “So… we’re stuck here for days?”

Bucky grinned slowly “At least we’re together”

They both sat there, heartbeat loud, realization settling in, more time together, more mornings like this more kisses.

Bucky leaned in again, hand cupping Steve’s jaw “We still got fifteen minutes”

Steve blushed “Buck-”

But Bucky just kissed him again, slow, lazy, warm, like he wanted to start the day by memorizing Steve’s mouth, and Steve kissed him back, hands sliding into Bucky’s hair.

Only Tony Stark’s threat of Rhodey breaking down the door forced them to eventually get out of bed.

Steve and Bucky walked into the huge spacious living room twenty-five minutes late.

Everyone else was already seated at the long wooden table by the open patio doors, plates clatter, coffee poured with the ocean breeze slipping through the curtains, all conversation stopped when they appeared.

Tony stood up dramatically, arms wide, voice loud “Well, well, WELL! Look who finally decided to join us, the sleeping beauties”

Bucky glared “We’re not that late”

“Oh, no, not at all, it’s fine, really I just figured you two were… busy”

Pepper leaned forward, suspicious “Busy with what?”

Tony looked directly at Steve and Bucky, slow, evil smile forming “Adjusting to the island’s atmosphere”

 “We were sleeping” they both said at the same time way too fast way too coordinated way too rehearsed.

Tony sipped his mimosa like he was enjoying some show “Well, as long as the two of you rested properly that’s what actually matters, especially our guest Steve here, James I hope you treated him right, and by the way how was your early morning fresh air?” he was smirking 

“Tony, what are you talking about?” Pepper glared

Tony replied taking another sip “Oh nothing, I just happened to go for my early swim today, sunrise, calm water, beautiful view and from the corner of my eye, I see two silhouettes on the balcony above me” Steve froze, Bucky did too “there was lots of… proximity and also some mouth-to-mouth action, but hey who am I to judge?”

“Who?” Rhodey asked

“It doesn’t matter” Tony said still smirking looking at Bucky

Steve coughed so hard he almost died.

Everyone at the table “WHO?!”

Tony shrugged, dramatically “I don’t name names but it is such an honor that my property always be bringing people together! ANYWAY! Who wants eggs? Who wants fruit? Who wants to PRETEND I didn’t just witness the biggest plot twist of this whole event?” Tony winked at Steve and Bucky and leaned closely and whispered so it was only them who could hear “Relax! I’m not telling, but if you’re gonna make out on the balcony above my head, at least invite me to the wedding and please let me host it, I love hosting” Steve nearly dropped his fork, Bucky choked on his coffee, Tony smirked and went back to eating like nothing happened.

Meanwhile everyone else was left confused.

Steve and Bucky shared one terrified, flustered glance and under the table, their hands found each other, hidden, warm and steady.

They both barely ate, they stood up almost immediately, Steve saying he needed some batteries and other supplies for his camera gear, Bucky said he needed a new charger or something, just an excuse to leave that brunch.

The village was sleepy in the late afternoon light, watercolor skies reflecting on the calm water as Steve and Bucky walked down the wooden path that led to the docks, they both bought nothing but some supplies for Steve, some useless snacks and a pair of sunglasses Bucky insisted Steve "needed for his aesthetic" but the shopping had just been an excuse, they both knew it.

They sat at the edge, legs dangling above the water, close but not touching.

Steve inhaled deeply “I guess we should talk, but I don’t… I don’t really know how to start”

“You don’t have to start anywhere specific” Bucky said softly, eyes on him instead of the ocean “Just talk to me”

Steve let out a shaky laugh“See, that’s the problem, you always make it sound so easy”

“Because with you it is”

Steve froze at that, eyes falling to his hands “Not for me” Bucky wanted to ask what did it mean but he didn’t push, he just stayed silent and Steve finally exhaled, long and exhausted “Do you know what those shoots did to me?”

Bucky frowned a little and finally asked “What do you mean?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck “The Cartier one was… hard, really hard, it was the first time I see you in person and you were so cool, so kind, so different from any other celebrity I’ve worked with and I had to pretend I wasn’t-” he stopped himself

“wasn’t what?” Bucky asked gently

Steve clenched his jaw, then forced it out “Wasn’t staring at you like you hung the moon” Bucky skipped a breath “I’d look through that lens” Steve continued, voice quieter now “and I’d see you not the model not the celebrity but you! and I couldn’t breathe half the time, Bucky, I’m not even exaggerating, I had to step out twice and you didn’t notice because everyone always crowds around you and… God, it sounds pathetic”

“Steve”

“But then People Magazine?” Steve shook his head, almost laughing at it “That was the worst, you were… you, and I kept telling you to pose, to move your hand here, to turn your face like that, and you just listened, you didn’t question me once, you obeyed every word and I-” he swallowed hard “I went to the bathroom and had a panic attack because I realized I liked the feeling of telling you what to do and I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t want that or you, you’re… you”

Bucky didn’t speak, he didn’t need to, he reached out, thumb brushing Steve’s cheek so gently it almost hurt “Hey” he whispered, then he leaned in and pressed a kiss just under Steve’s eye, an apology, then another on his temple, another on his cheekbone so soft, almost scared kisses “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I swear, I had no idea”

“It’s not your fault”

“No, but it matters” Bucky murmured, he finally cupped Steve’s jaw, thumb resting under his bottom lip “You were hurting and I didn’t see it”

Steve leaned into the touch like he’d been waiting years for it “But” he said, voice trembling “it wasn’t all bad, I mean… it was killing me, yeah, but I wouldn’t take it back, not one second, because it was you and it was worth it”

Bucky closed his eyes like that physically struck him, and when he spoke, his voice sounded different, a bit unsteady “You wanna know when it hit me?” he whispered, Steve nodded “The People party”

Steve blinked “…what?”

“That night” Bucky said, staring at him with something raw and adoring “Everyone was staring at the Odin siblings like they were literal gods walking into the room, even I looked, but when I looked back at you… you weren’t looking at them, you were looking at me with that stupid little smile you do, the one where your nose scrunches?”

Steve covered his face “Oh my god”

“Shut up, I love that smile” Bucky laughed, gently tugging Steve’s hand away “I kept waiting for you to look away, for you to go bother someone else, for you to flirt with someone, anyone, but you didn’t, you stayed with me like I was the most interesting person in the room”

“You were” Steve said quietly.

Bucky inhaled sharply “That’s when something shifted, and I ignored it because… because I thought maybe I was imagining things” He laughed at himself “And then your gift at my birthday? Steve, you didn’t give me a book you gave me- God, I don’t even know, you gave me something no one ever did, attention, care, effort, you listened to something stupid I said in an interview once and you… remembered and that meant the world to me”

Steve’s eyes softened “Of course I did”

“And then the almost-kiss?” Bucky shook his head at himself, smiling like he couldn’t believe it “I’ve been replaying that in my head so much it’s embarrassing”

“It’s not embarrassing” Steve said “It’s human” They finally leaned their foreheads together “You scare me” Steve whispered.

“You terrify me” Bucky whispered back.

Then Steve choked out a laugh “So what do we do now?”

Bucky took Steve’s his hand and placed it over his own beating heart “We try” he said “Slow or fast, messy or perfect, scared or brave… we try, because it feels right and because I want you, I really, really want you”

Steve exhaled like he’d been underwater for months and kissed Bucky, soft, certain and hopeful.

They didn’t go back to the beach house right away, not after everything they said not after the kisses and the crying-laughing and the confessions, they stayed in the little village.

They walked through tiny stone streets where cats slept in doorways and old women sat outside knitting.

Steve bought falafel wraps from a street vendor because he needed something heavy and real in his stomach after all the emotions and Bucky got fries and kept stealing bites of Steve’s wrap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then they found a stand selling gelato and Steve ordered pistachio while Bucky got stracciatella and then they swapped because “yours looks better”

They got coffee next even though they clearly didn’t need it.

They sat on a bench looking at the water, their shoulders brushing softly, their breath syncing without them meaning to, the sun was slowly disappearing behind the water, turning the ocean the color of molten honey.

Steve watched the horizon and Bucky watched Steve.

“You’re staring” Steve murmured without looking at him.

“Yeah” Bucky said simply “I am” Steve felt the heat creep up his neck, he didn’t hide it, he didn’t need to anymore.

They watched the sunset until only pink skies remained and by the time they walked back up the path toward the beach house, the sound of music and laughter drifted toward them.

Tony Stark had built a bonfire, of course he had.

A huge ring of candles, fairy lights hanged between palm trees, people dancing barefoot in the sand, champagne bottles stuck into the earth like weird elegant torches.

Steve scanned the crowd and something caught his eye, Wanda laughing, with a guy.

Tall, very polite looking, very awkward in a charming way, wearing glasses and talking with British precision.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked under his breath.

Bucky followed his gaze “Him? Oh, that’s Vision, Tony’s personal assistant”

“Vision?”

“It’s not his name” Bucky said with a grin “Tony calls him that because supposedly he’s the ‘vision of organizational perfection’ or whatever, his real name is… I don’t know, something normal but Vision stuck”

Steve huffed a laugh as he watched Wanda lightly touch Vision’s arm while she talked “She looks like she’s having fun” he said, smiling softly.

“Mm-hm” Bucky hummed “Wouldn’t surprise me if those two sneak off somewhere before the night ends”

Steve nudged him “Why?”

“They were working on the seating chart together at the wedding reception yesterday” Bucky said with mock seriousness “Nothing bonds two people faster than mutual suffering” Steve laughed, God, he hadn’t laughed this easily in months… And then without hesitation, without checking if anyone was watching, Bucky slid his hand into Steve’s and Steve’s heart jumped so hard he almost tripped, Bucky leaned in a little, voice quiet but steady “You know” he said, looking toward the firelight “weddings really do bring people together, not just the couple getting married” Steve swallowed, Bucky squeezed his hand “I mean…” Bucky glanced at Wanda and Vision smiling at each other, then back at Steve with that soft, ridiculous, beautiful look on his face “Seems like a lot of people found something this week”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, voice gentle.

Bucky met his eyes “Yeah, a lot of people”

They walked toward the bonfire together and by the time everyone drifted lazily toward the bonfire pit it was already dark.

Steve and Bucky stood close, too close, trying to look normal trying to pretend they weren’t still vibrating from the kisses on the dock… the confessions… the softness of watching the sunset pressed shoulder-to-shoulder like they’d been doing it for years.

Steve’s smile kept drifting into something dreamy, warm and Bucky… well, Bucky couldn’t stop looking at him like Steve was the only source of light in the whole damn place.

Tony kept watching them and smirking.

They tried, really, truly tried to talk with the others, to laugh at Rhodey’s story, to comment on how shockingly good Bruce was at roasting marshmallows over open flame but their shoulders kept brushing, their knees kept nudging, their eyes kept meeting, catching, lingering like magnets.

Bucky leaned in whispering “Walk with me” Steve nodded before the sentence even finished.

They slipped away quietly, no one was paying attention.

The moment they rounded the curve of the beach and slipped behind two tall palms, away from the glow of the bonfire, Steve turned and Bucky was already stepping into him, hands gentle but sure, mouth curving in that soft, aching smile Steve had memorized and then he kissed him.

Warm, slow, hungry in the way someone starved finally gets to taste something real, Steve melted into it instantly hands sliding into Bucky’s hair, tugging him closer, kissing him back like he’d been waiting years because he had been.

They broke apart only to breathe, foreheads pressed together, Steve’s laugh came out light, breathless “We’re acting like teenagers sneaking around”

Bucky kissed his jaw, his cheek, the edge of his mouth “We kinda are”

Steve shoved him gently, grinning “You’re ridiculous”

“And you love it”

Steve kissed him again just to shut him up, the kisses deepened, slowly at first, then with a growing urgency neither of them bothered to hide anymore.

Bucky’s hands found Steve’s waist, then his hips, pulling him closer and Steve pressed back with equal need, feeling Bucky’s breath hitch, feeling himself get overwhelmed, dizzy with want and warmth and everything he kept buried for so long.

But then he felt Bucky’s fingers unzipping his pants, Steve broke the kiss, he placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, the other on Bucky’s fingers, breathing a little fast “Buck… wait”

Bucky froze instantly, hands lifting in surrender, eyes softening with immediate concern “Yeah… Yeah, of course... Sorry, I didn’t mean to push”

Steve shook his head, thumb brushing Bucky’s jaw “You didn’t! You didn’t do anything wrong, I just… I’m not ready, not yet”

Bucky’s whole expression softened into something unbearably tender and he stepped closer, pressing their foreheads together again “Hey, one step at a time, we go as slow as you need, I’m not going anywhere”

Steve exhaled shakily, relieved “Thank you”

Bucky cupped his face “You don’t ever have to thank me for needing space, you tell me what you want, and we follow that, always”

Steve swallowed, eyes warm “I want this” he kissed him, slow and sweet “I just… want it slow”

Bucky smiled against his mouth “Slow is perfect”

They eventually pulled apart, laughing at themselves again, Bucky brushed sand off Steve’s shirt “We should go back before Tony starts sending a search party”

“He’d love that” Steve muttered.

They walked back side by side, hands brushing, both of them buzzing with something bright and new and terrifying and wonderful.

When they returned to the bonfire, no one paid attention, but Tony of course, he smirked and mouthed “teenagers” at them and Steve and Bucky just smiled back, cheeks warm, hearts lighter than they’d been in years.

Pepper announced that Bruce was going to light some fireworks, and told everyone to sit down and watch.

Steve and Bucky sat down close enough for their knees to touch and all night long, they kept catching each other's eyes, soft glances, shy smiles, tiny sparks shared in silence.

Because the real fireworks weren’t in the sky, they were sitting right next to each other.

Chapter Text

Steve woke up slowly because he didn’t want to disturb the weight draped over his chest, a warm arm, heavy and familiar, a spread of hair tickling his collarbone and the soft exhale of breath against his skin… Bucky.

They’ve been waking up like this for days now and Steve still couldn’t believe it was allowed.

Bucky was practically on top of him, one leg was thrown over Steve’s thigh, and his whole body was molded to Steve’s side, he looked so peaceful.

Steve smiled stupidly, although he couldn’t see perfectly because he took off the contacts before bed, but he could make out Bucky’s face in soft blurry lines, it was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

Then Bucky shifted, tightening his hold, murmuring into Steve’s chest “Stop thinkin’ so loud”

Steve flushed “I wasn’t!!”

“You were” Bucky cracked one eye open, smirking “I could feel you blushing in your sleep”

“That’s not how blushing works” Steve muttered

“On you it does” Bucky stretched then he propped himself up on an elbow “Beach day?”

Steve blinked “Beach day?”

“Come on, you wanted to do fun activities, you promised” Bucky teased “Yesterday, after the whole… clinging to me for warmth event”

“I wasn’t clinging” Steve lied

“You were absolutely clinging” Bucky rolled on top of him again, pinning him playfully “So? Beach? It would be fun”

Steve hesitated “I… don’t have swim shorts, you know, I was planning on staying one night, I didn’t pack”

Bucky grinned, wicked and sleepy “Lucky for you, I practically live here” he got up, shirtless, boxers slung low, hair messy and unfairly gorgeous and digged through a drawer, Steve tried not to stare even tho he could barely see, yet he failed!

Bucky found a pair of navy swim shorts and tossed them to Steve “Wear these”

Steve wanted to say something but there was no way he was going to escape today.

They packed a beach bag: drinks, chips, fruit, Bucky’s Bluetooth speaker, towels, sunscreen, more snacks.

Steve changed into the borrowed swim shorts and a loose tropical shirt Bucky shoved into his arms, his vision was already fuzzy without his glasses.

Meanwhile Bucky… didn’t bother with a shirt, Steve could barely look at him, he was tan, drenched in sun already, hair tied back, necklace glinting against his chest, he was beautiful in the way summer ads try but fail to capture.

Bucky grabbed the sunscreen and handed it to Steve “Get my back?”

“Uh-yeah… Sure”

Bucky sat on the towel, legs open, arms braced behind him, completely casual and shirtless like it was nothing.

Steve kneeled behind him, his hands shook, he squeezed a little sunscreen onto his palms and touched Bucky’s shoulder blades and Bucky inhaled sharply “Cold”

“Sorry”

“No” Bucky murmured, voice low “Keep goin’... Feels good”

Steve swallowed hard and worked his hands slowly over Bucky’s broad, warm, solid back, muscles shifted under his touch and Bucky’s head tilted forward like he was trying not to melt.

“You okay?” Steve whispered

“Stevie” Bucky said, voice hoarse, “if you don’t stop touching me like that, I’m gonna make this beach experience very inappropriate”

Steve pulled his hands away fast, face flaming and Bucky laughed.

Bucky ran into the water, diving gracefully, Steve watched him, shirt still on, sitting on the towel with a blurry vision and a heartbeat too loud.

Bucky came up, hair slicked back, smirking at him across the waves.

But Steve’s phone rang... Sam.

Steve picked up “Hey”

“HEY? Dude, I was gonna check in on you, I heard there was a blackout in your area because of the storm!!!! And you’re at the beach? Since when?? I’m locked at home and you’re tanning? Traitor!”

“I’m- uh- on a little getaway, it wasn’t planned, I’m actually stuck because there are no flights to New York because of the storm”

“With Sharon?” Sam snorted  “I swear, if you two are doing some romantic weekend crap”

Steve winced “It’s not like that”

“Ohhh, so it IS like that” Sam said “You sound guilty”

Before Steve could respond, a splash and Bucky appeared beside him, dripping, gorgeous, squinting at the phone “Who’re you talking to?”

Sam said “Who the hell is THAT? And why does the voice sound so familiar?”

Steve panicked “Nobody! Just, just some guy at the beach walking by”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “Some guy, huh?”

“I gotta go, stay safe Sam” Steve blurted, ending the call

“You’re real smooth” Bucky crossed his arms “anyways, why aren’t you swimming?”

“I can’t see well, you know I can’t wear contacts while swimming and I didn’t bring my glasses thinking I would be back home on the schedule-”

“So you’re shy” Bucky concluded

“I’m not!”

“Then prove it, lose the shirt, the water’s amazing!! Come on, I’ll guide you” He stepped closer, voice softening “Trust me”

And somehow… Steve did, he hesitated with his fingers on the buttons of the tropical shirt, then exhaled, slow and shaky, one button, then two… Then the shirt fell open, revealing smooth pale skin, a defined chest, sculpted abs that might as well have been carved, tattoos Steve always hid, the little stories inked on him and the scar from a removed tattoo near his shoulder… The shirt slided off entirely and Bucky stopped breathing… Literally stopped.

His mouth opened, he blinked, he stared and he whispered “…holy shit”

Steve fidgeted “It’s not…”

“Don’t even finish that” Bucky stepped closer, slow, like he was approaching a piece of art “Steve… what the hell have you been hiding under your shirts?”

Steve blushed so hard his skin was almost boiling “Nothing, I mean, it’s just, working out, I guess”

“No! No, this is not ‘just working out’” Bucky gestured helplessly at him “This is- this is god-tier!!! Sculptors would quit their jobs”

“Bucky…”

“I’m serious” Bucky insisted “You’re carved!! You’re insane!! You’re- Jesus, Steve”

He dragged a hand through his hair, looking devastated and Steve laughed nervously “I’m not that-”

“YES you are” Bucky snapped, stepping even closer “Your shoulders? They look like they were designed in a lab!! And your chest?” He pointed “Those tattoos? I didn’t even know you had any”

Steve shrugged “They’re old”

Bucky smiled, warm and fond “Come here a sec”

Steve took a half step, Bucky started circling him slowly, not touching, but close enough for Steve to feel the heat of him.

“You know what kills me?” Bucky murmured  “You walk around pretending you’re this little shy dude, always hiding behind your camera, meanwhile you’re hiding this body!! This-” he gestured over him again “-Greek statue crap”

Steve let out a breathy laugh “You’re exaggerating”

“I’m not, dude you’d be on every magazine cover” Bucky moved back in front of him and shook his head in disbelief “You’re actually hotter than me”

Steve choked on air “No!! No-no way! Absolutely not!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “You’re kidding me”

Steve covered his face “I’m not hotter than you”

“Yes, you are” Bucky insisted “You didn’t even blink when I was shirtless this morning”

Steve groaned “Because I couldn’t see properly? Besides, I’ve seen you shirtless before”

“When?”

“When I took your pictures! Remember?” Steve mumbled, then, even quieter: “…besides, I’ve seen more than that”

Bucky stilled, his voice dropped dangerously soft “More than what?”

Steve turned bright red “That movie you did? You were completely naked!! You basically showed the world everything!! Nothing left to the imagination”

Bucky barked a laugh “Oh my god!”

Steve groaned again, hiding his face more “Forget I said that”

“Absolutely not” Bucky said, delighted “You watched it?”

“I watched all your movies”

“Even the bad ones?”

“Yes”

“Stevie…” Bucky bit his lip, wicked and thrilled “The things you’re making me think about right now…”

Steve’s whole body heated “I hate you” he whispered

“No you don’t” Bucky said stepping close enough that their chests almost touched “You adore me”

“Unfortunately”

Bucky smirked “Come swim with me”

Steve hesitated again “Buck, my vision-”

“I said I’ll guide you” He offered his hand and Steve took it.

They walked in slowly until the water reached their waists, Steve could barely see, everything was a sunny blur, but he could feel Bucky, he could feel the warmth of his hands on his hips and his breath near his ear.

“You okay?” Bucky asked softly

“Yeah” Steve replied “Just the water is colder than I imagined”

“Your heartbeat is going crazy”

“That’s your fault actually”

Bucky smirked “Good”

He slid closer, water rippling around them “Stevie…” he lifted a hand, tracing the edge of Steve’s collarbone slowly “You’re so damn gorgeous”

Steve shivered “Bucky…”

“No, listen” Bucky’s voice was low, sincere, and hungry “I mean it… I’ve never seen someone look like this! Not in real life! Not up close! Not just… existing”

Steve felt dizzy “Don’t say it like- like that”

“Why not?”

“Because even blurry I could see you look at me like- like I’m some kind of- ”

“Treasure?” Bucky said gently “Something rare? Something I don’t wanna take my hands off of?”

 “Bucky…”

Then Bucky leaned in, lips brushing his “Let me kiss you”

Steve nodded helplessly.

The kiss was slower this time, like Bucky was savoring him, like he was memorizing the shape of Steve’s mouth, his hands slid up Steve’s sides, fingers brushing wet skin, tracing muscle.

Steve moaned softly, not loud, but enough that Bucky heard it and responded with a low, involuntary groan of his own.

Bucky deepened the kiss, lips parting Steve’s, tongue teasing slow, deliberate and intoxicating and his grip tightened at Steve’s waist.

Steve curled his fingers into Bucky’s wet hair and pulled it gently.

Bucky nearly collapsed into him “Jesus, Steve”

Steve whispered into his ear “Bucky… I want- I want to keep kissing you”

“God, same” Bucky gasped “But if we keep going-” he pulled back only an inch, breathing hard “-I’m gonna forget we’re in public” Steve nodded weakly and Bucky’s thumb brushed Steve’s lower lip “Let’s get out of the water before I commit several crimes”

They both laughed, full and warm, and kissed once more, quick, sweet and dizzying.

They walked back to shore, hands brushing, stealing glances, both breathless.

They settled near their towels when a familiar voice called out

“Well, well, look who finally decided to be social!” Wanda approached carrying a woven bag, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, long skirt fluttering in the sea breeze, she looked between them, noting their damp hair, their flushed faces, the way they seemed to gravitate toward each other without meaning to “You two have been missing for a while” she said

Steve almost choked on his cold drink and Bucky calmly bit into a piece of pineapple like nothing in the world was suspicious.

“We were swimming” Bucky answered, far too casually “You should do it too, the water is amazing”

“Uh- yeah” Steve echoed, definitely not casual

Wanda smiled warmly, dropped her bag “Good! You both need it! Especially you, boss”

“Me?” he blinked

“Mm-hmm! You’re glowing” she said “Seriously, I’ve never seen you this relaxed! Or this… happy! Maybe you should go on surprise vacations more often”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck “Guess I needed a break”

Wanda gave him a knowing but completely innocent look “We all do, I’m glad you’re having fun”

Steve glanced at Bucky without meaning to, Bucky’s eyes met his, soft and bright.

Yeah… Fun is one word for what he has been feeling.

And then, Tony stomped through the sand holding two drinks, sunglasses on, Pepper walking behind him, with a beach bag and more towels, a long floral dress.

“Alright” he announced “which one of you Greek-mythology rejects told the universe it was okay to make Steve Rogers look like he was carved out of sunlight? Because I have complaints” Steve froze, Bucky beamed proudly “No, I’m serious” Tony continued “Look at him! Steven don’t be shy, you’re one of us now, don’t hide behind that towel, you’re glowing like you moisturize with ground pearls and it’s offensive”

Steve dragged the tropical shirt halfway over his chest, mumbling “It’s just the sun…” Bucky laughed under his breath and then Tony pointed a finger at him

“And you- Barnes! Congratulations! You won the lottery”

Bucky raised a brow “The lottery?”

“Yeah! The cosmic one! Because clearly you bribed someone to get this view today and I want the receipts”

Pepper smacked Tony’s arm lightly “Stop embarrassing him!”

But Tony was absolutely grinning “I’m not embarrassing him! I’m complimenting him! Big difference”

And Steve wanted the sand to swallow him whole while Bucky looked at him like Tony was just saying out loud what he’s been thinking all day.

They all stayed together on the beach the rest of the day, talking and laughing.

The sky was already getting dark when they walked back from the beach, skin warm and glowing from salt and sun, and bodies heavy with that delicious post-ocean exhaustion.

They showered separately, or, more accurately, hid separately because both of them needed a moment to cool down after all the flirting and all the “accidental” touches.

By the time Steve got out of the bathroom wearing soft gray sweatpants and Bucky’s t-shirt, Bucky had already gone downstairs to the kitchen to grab dinner.

He came back with warm plates balanced in his hands and a smug little grin “Pepper and Wanda tag-teamed the cooking, don’t ask me what it is, I was too distracted hoping you wouldn’t fall asleep before I got back”

Steve rolled his eyes “I wasn’t going to sleep, I was just… resting my eyes”

“You were snoring, sweetheart”

Steve groaned and shoved him lightly, but Bucky just laughed and set the food down on the small table in their suite.

They ate sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders brushing every now and then, the quiet between them was warm and full, the exhaustion made them soft, honest, unguarded and when they finished, they put on some random movie that neither cared what it was, and lay back against the pillows.

Twenty minutes in, the movie faded into background noise.

Bucky’s fingers were resting on Steve’s forearm, Steve didn’t move, didn’t breathe too hard, didn’t dare break the moment.

Then, Bucky’s voice gentle but serious “Steve… what are we gonna do when we go back to New York?”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat, he pushed up on one elbow, turning fully toward him “What do you want to do?”

Bucky looked down at their hands, his thumb was tracing the vein under Steve’s wrist like he was memorizing it “I want… this, I want you… Not just here, not just on vacation… I want to know what this is when we’re home… But I’m-” he swallowed “I’m scared of what happens if people find out, Hollywood isn't really the safest place for guys like me, and I’ve been gay for as long as I can remember, I just… learned how to hide it”

Steve didn’t answer with words, he reached up and cupped Bucky’s jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone with a softness that made Bucky’s eyelashes flutter “You don’t owe anyone your truth before you’re ready, I get it, I really do, besides, I don’t think I’d handle the spotlights either, I know firsthand how it is from the other side, so, yeah, I completely understand if you’d want to keep it a secret”

Bucky looked at him, eyes glassy with relief and guilt at the same time “As long as we’re together right?” Steve smiled softly and nodded, then Bucky added “What about you, though? What… what are you? I mean- sorry, that sounded wrong-”

Steve laughed softly “No, it didn’t, It’s okay” he took a long breath “I’m bi, I’ve always liked both, even if most of my relationships were with women” he paused and added “I only had one relationship with a guy” he said brushing his shoulder, and Bucky noticed that he was actually brushing the faded tattoo, then Steve continued “I thought he cared about me, I really did” his voice hardened, just slightly “But things weren’t what they seemed” Bucky shifted closer, knees touching Steve’s “What happened? If you don’t mind”

Steve exhaled shakily “He was obsessed with celebrities, fame, money, all of it… One night, we were on a date and Stephen Strange, the rich famous CEO guy, walked in, and Brock said, ‘Imagine the money we’d make if you had your camera’, he kept saying things like that, kept asking me to bring my camera everywhere” A bitter laugh escaped him “And somehow, every time we went out, a celebrity was right there, then I found out he was actually stalking them, tracking them and their schedules, using me without saying it out loud, I refused each time because that’s not who I am, I’m a fashion photographer, and I have ethics, I hate invading people’s lives and photographing people without their consent for money, that’s wrong”

Bucky’s jaw clenched “Steve…”

“And when I said no… he would get aggressive, grab my arm a little bit too hard, slam things, break things, although he never hit me or anything, but… it felt like violence anyway” his voice cracked “He’d make me feel like it was my fault, and my overreaction… And every time he apologized, I forgave him, I don’t know why” he drew his knees up a little “And what’s worse? He never even liked men, he just used me, and when I wanted intimacy… he pushed me away, each time, he made me feel ridiculous for wanting it, made me feel wrong, made me feel like I was needy, and that there was something wrong with me” Bucky’s entire face twisted with something fierce and protective “That’s why the other night at the bonfire… when things got a bit heated… I had to stop” he swallowed hard “I’ve never actually gone all the way with a guy, and I got embarrassed even scared, I didn’t want you to think I-” he couldn’t finish and Bucky didn’t let him, he moved slowly, carefully, placing both hands on Steve’s cheeks.

“Hey! Look at me” Steve did “You’re not less… You’re not broken... You’re not inexperienced in a way that matters… None of that changes how I see you” Steve blinked fast, Bucky leaned his forehead against his “And if we get to that, I would never push you, never rush you, we go slow at your pace, and I’ll wait as long as you need, I swear to you and I am so sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable” Steve’s breath hitched, Bucky pressed tiny soft kisses to Steve’s cheek, then another to the corner of his mouth, feather-light, more comfort than heat, then spoke softly “I’m sorry he made you feel like you weren’t enough, I’m sorry he treated you like that, you deserve gentleness, you deserve patience, you deserve to be wanted for you, not for what you can provide, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to make it up to you as long as you let me” Steve leaned into him, burying his face in Bucky’s neck, Bucky wrapped his arms around him tightly, protectively, like he could shield him from memory itself.

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing together, then Steve pulled back, eyes shining, lips parted like he was about to fall apart, voice trembling “Bucky… I need to tell you something”

“What is it?”

Steve took a deep, shaky inhale “I love you” Bucky froze “I’m in love with you and I needed to get it out because it’s been sitting in my chest like a weight, and saying it feels like I can finally breathe again” Bucky’s breath caught, eyes wide, stunned, Steve rushed on, heart spilling out “You don’t have to say it back, I know it’s too soon for you, I know this is fast, but not for me, I’ve been falling for you even before I met you, before I knew you in real life, and now that I do…” his voice cracked “…it’s impossible not to love you”

Silence, but not the bad kind, the kind that changes everything.

Bucky cupped the back of his neck, pulling him in slowly, kissing him, he didn’t repeat the words, not yet, but the kiss he gave Steve was so soft, so full, so devoted, it felt like a promise.

A promise of later… A promise of time… A promise of us.

Chapter Text

They were tangled on the couch, a movie was long forgotten, a tray of food was pushed somewhere on the coffee table, Steve was half under Bucky, warm and flushed and breathless, his fingers curled in the back of Bucky’s shirt like he doesn’t remember letting go.

Bucky kissed him slow and deep and Steve melted into it with a low sound he didn’t mean to make, Bucky smiled against his mouth.

“God, Stevie” he murmured, brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek “you’re gonna kill me”

Steve laughed quietly, tugging him back down “Pretty sure you started this”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who keeps looking at me like you’re starving”

“Because I am” Steve whispered

Bucky groaned, kisses him again, deeper this time- then a knock on the door.

They launched apart like guilty teenagers, Steve nearly fell off the couch.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky whispered harshly.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, tried to catch his breath “Okay, act normal”

“You’re bright red”

“You were on top of me!”

Bucky mouthed sorry just as Steve opened the door, trying to look like he didn’t just have the best make out session of his life.

Wanda stood there, hair in a bun, arms crossed “Steve” she said flatly “answer your phone”

“What?”

“Your phone, did you put it on silent? People Magazine emailed, twice, they need the rest of the stills tonight, they called me telling me that they called you many times because you didn’t reply to them”

Steve’s face went blank “Oh my god, yes, right, sorry, I forgot, I mean I was… I’ll get right on it”

Her eyes flicked between him and the room behind him, and where Bucky was sitting on the couch trying way too hard to look casual, pretending to be focused on the movie.

Wanda slowly raised a brow and Steve panicked “Wanda, thank you, I’ll reply now”

She studied him for a long beat, then shrugged “Sure, have fun” she paused just a little too knowingly “working” then she left and the door clicked closed.

Steve slapped his hands over his face “We’re so bad at this”

Bucky leaned back and laughed “Nah, she didn’t suspect anything”

“Bucky… she suspected everything, she’s basically a mind reader, you don’t know her like I do, sometimes I even think she could control minds not just read them”

“Okay, maybe”

Steve threw a pillow at him that Bucky caught easily then Steve sighed, grabbed his laptop, and sat cross-legged on the bed, opening the folders of untouched photos “I’m glad I brought this… and thank god this place has good wifi”

Bucky put a chair next to the bed “Come here, superstar, let me stare at you while you work”

Steve was focused but soft around the edges, stealing glances at Bucky every minute and Bucky watched him in this quiet, reverent way, like he was memorizing him.

“Y’know” Bucky finally spoke “I get why People wants these, those shots you did? Nobody ever made me look that good”

Steve blushed instantly “Buck, you look good in literally every angle”

“Oh? So you were checking every angle?” Bucky teased.

Steve mumbled, “Shut up” and kept editing, but Bucky wasn’t done, this moment felt too real, too close to ending tomorrow, so he reached for Steve’s camera and Steve froze “What are you doing?”

“Taking pictures”

“Of what?”

“You”

“No! Buck! Stop! I hate being on this side of the lens” Bucky lifted the camera anyway… Click… Steve scrunched his nose “Bucky!” Click… “You’re unbelievable” Click…

Bucky smirked “That one’s for the ‘Steve is annoyed at me’ collection” Steve hid his face with a pillow “That one’s for the ‘Steve is adorable and doesn’t know it’ collection”

Then Bucky jumped closer on the bed, sitting in front of him, lens inches away “Buckyyyy” Steve whined… Click.

“And that one’s for me” Bucky said quietly and then sat the camera to timer mode “This place has great lighting” he said “We should actually take pictures together”

Steve’s voice softened “…Why?”

“So you have something to keep” He tried to sound casual but he couldn’t quite mask the truth “We don’t know when we’ll get time alone again, or when we’ll be in the same city, I don’t like that, so… pictures” Steve stared at him for a long second, then nodded.

Bucky sat beside him and pulled Steve into his side, the timer flashed, they both smiled… Click… Bucky bumped his forehead gently against Steve’s temple… Click… Then Bucky turned Steve’s face toward him, not kissing, just close, intimate… Click… Then Steve, shy but brave, cupped Bucky’s jaw and kisses him soft and slow… Click… Then the last one, Steve buried his face in Bucky’s shoulder, breath warm, quiet “You’re gonna make me miss you way too much” he whispered.

“You think I’m not gonna lose my mind?” Bucky laughed, but it cracked just a little “I fly to Atlanta tomorrow, you fly to New York, different time zones, different schedules, how the hell am I supposed to look normal on set after this?”

Steve slid a hand over Bucky’s chest “We’ll figure it out”

The suite got quiet, too quiet.

Steve stood first, grabbing his suitcase, he folded his clothes slowly, like every piece was a goodbye.

Bucky started packing too, but he kept pausing, watching Steve like he was trying to memorize how he moves, how he breathes.

After ten minutes, Steve broke the silence “I hate this part”

“What part?” Bucky asked softly

“The part where vacation ends” Bucky nodded slowly

“And having to pretending like we’re not… this?”

“That’s what I hate most” Steve admitted voice trembling “And the fact that I won’t get to wake up and see you every morning and that I won’t get to kiss you whenever I want”

Bucky stopped packing altogether and crossed the space between them and cupped Steve’s face.

“You can call me anytime” he said gently “FaceTime, text, whatever you want, even if it’s 3 am and you can’t sleep, I’ll answer, I promise”

Steve leaned into the touch, eyes glossy “What if… you get tired of long distance?”

Bucky’s voice dropped to a whisper “I won’t”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’ve waited years to meet someone who feels like this”

“That sounds cheesy” Steve murmured

“Yeah” Bucky smiled “I’m in my cheesy era, deal with it” Steve laughed, then suddenly his eyes dropped, shy again “Hey” Bucky said softly “Look at me” Steve lifted his gaze Bucky saw it, the fear of losing something he hasn’t even fully had yet, the hope and the love he was trying so hard not to blurt out “I’m here” Bucky whispered “I’m not going anywhere”

 “Tomorrow’s gonna hurt”

“Yeah” Bucky admitted “But tonight… we’re still here, just us”

Sunrise on the island always looked unreal, peach and gold soaking into everything, but that morning it felt almost offensive because it was too beautiful for a day that was going to hurt this much.

Steve woke first, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe properly, he just watched Bucky sleep beside him on top of the covers, Bucky slept like he was exhausted in every cell, hair a little messy, lashes low, mouth parted.

Steve felt like he already missed him, and he hated that it was their last morning.

Eventually Bucky blinked awake, slow and warm and sleepy “…hey” he murmured

Steve smiled, small and aching “Hey”

Bucky reached for his hand automatically, then remembered what day it was, and stopped halfway, that tiny hesitation broke something inside both of them, Steve didn’t think, he leaned forward and kissed him, it wasn’t heated or  rushed, it was just full, slow, too full.

Bucky made a sound against his mouth, a soft, helpless exhale and curled a hand around Steve’s jaw, pulling him closer like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They kissed like people who didn’t know when the next time would be, they kissed like people who didn’t want to leave the room, or the day, or the moment, and when they finally parted, foreheads resting together, Bucky whispered “Steve… if we don’t stop now, I’m not getting on that yacht or plane”

Steve huffed a broken laugh “Then don’t”

Bucky smiled, sad, deep and kissed his cheek “You know we have to” Steve nodded, throat tight.

They got ready in silence, slow and unwilling, showering separately, dressing like people moving through cold water, checking their bags with every breath feeling heavier.

Eventually, Tony’s personal assistant, knocked announcing that the yacht was ready.

From the moment they stepped aboard, they became… quiet, they stood side by side near the railing as the island, and the big house drifted away behind them.

They didn’t touch, not even pinkies brushing, but they kept looking at each other, those soft glances that say everything they weren’t saying out loud, I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go, I don’t know how we’re going to do this, I don’t want to stop being yours.

Sometimes Steve would look away first, because his eyes were too full and sometimes Bucky would be the one swallowing hard and blinking up at the sky like he was trying not to fall apart.

A couple times Tony passed by, gave them one long suspicious stare, then muttered “God, you two look like you filmed a dramatic indie breakup movie last night”

Steve forced a smile and Bucky didn’t even react, they were too wrapped in something else.

By the time the yacht reached the mainland marina, both of them were holding themselves like they were bracing for impact.

They headed to the airport, traffic, security, noise, people, all of it blurred around them.

They walked slowly together until the point where the hall split to different departures and gates, Steve’s gate was far and Bucky’s boarding time was coming up.

They stopped in the middle of the walkway, neither spoke at first, then Steve finally said, voice very soft “So… this is it”

Bucky smiled a tiny, tired smile “Not ‘it’, just, right now”

Steve nodded, looking down “Right now hurts”

“That’s because it mattered” Bucky reached out and touched the hem of Steve’s sleeve, the smallest touch, barely anything, but it made Steve inhale sharply “You matter”

Steve looked up at him, open and vulnerable, his heart sitting right there in his eyes, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky and Bucky hugged him back instantly, fiercely, like he was holding on to something he couldn’t afford to lose.

They held each other too tight, too long, too much.

Some people walking by glanced, some whispered and some stared a little too long yet neither of them cared, finally, Bucky whispered into Steve’s shoulder “…we have to let go before someone recognizes me”

Steve let out a soft, trembling laugh into Bucky’s neck “I don’t want to”

“Me too” Bucky murmured, voice warm and breaking “But I have to because I want us to last, and that means doing this right”

They finally parted, slowly.

Steve touched Bucky’s cheek one last time, a quick brush then dropped his hand before anyone could see.

Bucky’s eyes softened, full of something deep and terrifying and hopeful “Call me when you land?” he said.

“You too!”

Bucky smiled, truly smiled, for the first time that morning.

“Have a safe flight!”

Steve took a step back, breath shaky, Bucky watched him go hands in his pockets like he was physically stopping himself from reaching out.

Steve turned one last time, Bucky raised two fingers in a tiny, private goodbye and Steve mirrored it, then they walked away from each other, both of them already aching, already counting the hours until next time, already missing the other like air.

Bucky dropped into his first-class seat with a sigh that sounded nothing like the smug, relaxed movie star people expected him to be, he buckled in, leaned his head back, and for a second, he just stared at the ceiling of the plane like it personally offended him.

His phone vibrated, Natasha calling him, FaceTime, of course, he hesitated only a second before answering.

Natasha appeared on screen wearing sunglasses even though she was clearly inside some ridiculously fancy European hotel suite, her hair was tied up in a messy knot, and she looked… annoyingly rested for someone on a honeymoon.

She squinted at him “Why do you look like someone ran over your puppy?”

Bucky snorted, tried to be casual “Nice to see you too, how’s the honeymoon?”

She leaned back, smirking “Perfect! Amazing! Everything I deserve!! But don’t change the subject” She tilted her head “You look like you swallowed the ocean”

“It’s nothing” Bucky said, a little too quickly “Just tired, long day ahead, long weeks ahead actually”

Natasha blinked slowly, the way she always did when she knew he was lying “James”

He closed his eyes, no one says his name the way she did, like she was peeling back all his armor with just one syllable “I don’t know” he muttered “I just- I feel weird! Off”

Natasha’s eyebrow raised “Off?”

Bucky looked away from the phone, out the window, at nothing “Yeah”

A beat of silence and then Natasha finally spoke “Oh please!” she said flatly “You’re in love”

Bucky nearly dropped the phone “I- what? Nat? What the hell?”

“You heard me”

“I’m not-” He ran a hand down his face “I’m not in love”

She laughed loudly, more like rudely “Bucky, I’ve known you since you were sixteen, you get this exact voice every time you fall for someone, you know, the tragic-poet tone, like you’re narrating a black-and-white French indie movie”

Bucky groaned “Natasha”

“And your face” she added cheerfully “Your face is screaming: I just left the person I desperately want to kiss and I’m going to be moody for the next three days about it”

He pinched the bridge of his nose “It’s not-” but his chest ached.

He could still feel Steve’s arms around him at the airport, he could still feel Steve’s breath on his neck when he whispered, take care, in that soft, shaky way, he could still see the way Steve pretended to look everywhere except at him on the yacht because if he looked directly at Bucky he might’ve broken.

Natasha folded her arms “Uh-huh! Keep lying! It’s fun watching you try”

Bucky exhaled shakily “It’s just… hard, okay? We barely got time and who knows when I’ll even see him again? I’m flying to Atlanta for six weeks, he’s going back to New York, and we didn’t- we didn’t even figure out anything, not really”

Natasha’s expression softened the way only a handful of people ever get to see “Bucky” he looked back at the screen “You’ll see him again”

“Yeah, maybe in months”

“No” she said firmly “Sooner, because I know you and because fate has a weird way of shoving people together when they try to stay apart and because” she added quietly “he feels the same way, I know” Bucky closed his eyes, letting the words hit “I know you’re scared” Natasha said “But what you’re feeling? It’s real and it’s good for you, and you deserve good things, James”

Bucky’s voice cracked “Nat… But, how did you know?”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, both of you” She said calmly

His eyes snapped open “What the hell does that mean?”

“I could feel it” she said with a shrug “Even from Europe”

“That’s not how emotions work”

“It is if you’re me”

He laughed, small, but real, Natasha smiled like she was relieved to hear it.

 “Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks… Really”

She smiled, softer this time “Anytime! Now get off my screen, I’m supposed to be on a honeymoon”

He huffed out a laugh “You called me, Romanoff!”

“I know, safe flight sweetheart!!” she said, then hang up.

The screen went dark, and Bucky sinked back into his seat.

Somewhere over the next few hours, the plane will take him farther from Steve, but for the first time that day… It didn’t feel like losing him, it actually felt like the start of something.

The plane hadn’t even taken off yet, and Steve was already staring out the window like he had been in it for hours, his phone rested face-down on the tray table, his fingers tapped anxiously against his thigh, his breath was uneven in that way Wanda recognized instantly.

She slid into the seat next to him, buckling her belt, then turned her head slowly toward him, waiting, he didn’t look back, Wanda gave him exactly thirty seconds before nudging his shoulder lightly.

“Okay” she murmured “tell me why you look like a golden retriever that got left outside in the rain”

Steve let out a breath “I don’t- I’m fine”

Wanda snorted “Please! You scream ‘I’m going through something’ Actually…” she tilted her head, studying his face with narrowed eyes “you’ve been screaming it all morning, I just thought you were seasick or sun-deprived”

He shrugged, eyes still fixed ahead “Just tired! Long trip”

Wanda hummed in disbelief “Mhm! Sure! Totally not about a certain famous blue-eyed man who’s been glued to your side the whole time”

And that got him, Steve’s head whipped toward her “What- Wanda, no, we’re just-”

“Steve” She lifted one hand “I’m not Tony, I don’t say things just to hear myself talk” he fell silent, jaw flexing, throat tight, Wanda softened her voice “You know… now it makes sense”

He blinked, confused “…what does?”

“The way you were so nervous before taking the jobs with him” she said “You kept saying it was because of his name, because the project was too big… but it wasn’t” Her smile grew slow, knowing, warm “You were nervous because you were already crushing on him”

Steve felt his ears heat, he scrubbed a hand over his face “I wasn’t… I mean… it’s not-”

Wanda laughed quietly “You forget I’ve known you for years, when you like someone, you turn into this… adorable, clumsy, overthinking mess”

He groaned “Please stop”

“I won’t” She poked his arm “Because it finally makes sense why you kept re-ironing the same shirt the morning before the shoot and why you trimmed your beard three times and why you panicked because your camera bag wasn’t ‘organized enough’”

“Wanda, oh my god!” He covered his face again “Please stop talking”

“No!” She leaned in conspiratorially “Also, you smelled like pine the whole day, you never smell like pine, that was definitely for him” Steve closed his eyes, sinking lower into the seat, cheeks burning, Wanda softened again, her voice was gentle “But mostly…” she touched his wrist lightly “I’ve never seen you this happy! Ever!! Not even when your photos made the cover of Vogue!! Not even when you got the NY studio, boss, this week you were glowing”

He looked at her finally, exhaustion and longing all over his face “…yeah” he whispered.

Wanda’s expression melted “Steve… you really like him”

He swallowed hard “I more than like him”

Her breath hitched “Does he know?”

Steve glanced down at his phone, the lock screen now a random picture Bucky had taken of him laughing by accident, he sighed “He knows” he said quietly “I… told him things I never told anyone” His voice cracked “And he listened… Like… really listened”

Wanda placed a comforting hand on his shoulder “And now?”

He inhaled shakily, staring down the aisle toward a world without Bucky beside him “…now we go separate ways” Steve whispered “New York and Atlanta… Weeks apart... Maybe months”

Wanda squeezed his hand “He’ll come back to you”

Steve let out a small, helpless laugh “How do you know?”

“Because you don’t look like someone who had a vacation fling” Her gaze softened even further “You look like someone who’s terrified to lose the best thing to ever happen to him” His throat tightened painfully “And” she added, brushing a tear he didn’t even realize was forming “he looked at you the same way, every single time” Steve’s breath stilled and Wanda leaned back, giving him space but keeping her voice steady and sure “You’re lucky, Steve and so is he” She nudged his shoulder gently “Don’t let fear ruin something real”

Steve nodded slowly, eyes glistening, heart aching “…I won’t” he whispered.

“Good” Wanda smiled softly “Because the way he watched you this morning? The whole yacht noticed” Steve covered his face again, half laughing, half breaking, Wanda laughed too, rubbing his back “You’re in love, Steve Rogers, you really don’t stand a chance”

Steve whispered into his palms “…yeah! I know”

The moment Steve shut his apartment door behind him, the silence hit him like a wave.

He put his suitcase down but didn’t move away from it, his fingers lingered on the handle, the metal still warm from the cab, his chest felt tight, too tight, and he had no idea what to do with himself now that Bucky wasn’t standing beside him, brushing shoulders, giving him those quiet looks that felt like they could rebuild galaxies.

He finally exhaled and walked to the couch, dropping heavily onto it, his phone buzzed in his pocket, but for a moment he didn’t check, he just sat there, breathing, missing the warmth of another body next to him, then he remembered, the pictures.

He reached for his camera bag the way a drowning man reaches for air, he pulled the camera out, turned it on, and the screen lit up and there they were, Bucky’s photos.

The ones Bucky insisted on taking “so you won’t forget what we look like together”, the ones Steve pretended he hated because being on the other side of the lens made him flustered, the ones where Bucky kept making him laugh or blush until the corners of Steve’s eyes crinkled.

Steve’s thumb moved over the first picture, it was Bucky, smiling softly, sunlight catching on his hair, face open and gentle in a way Steve had never seen before the trip, another one, Steve laughing so hard he had to bend over, Bucky’s arm thrown around him and another, Bucky had taken it without warning, Steve looking at him with such raw affection that Steve’s breath caught.

He didn’t even realize he was leaning forward until his forehead rested against the camera quietly, as if trying to fold himself into the memory, his phone buzzed again, he reached for it blindly.

A message from Bucky, and he saw the typing bubble, he didn’t bother to read it, he immediately typed something without thinking, fingers trembling, and sent it before Bucky could finish what he was typing: I miss you.

And almost immediately Bucky’s message appeared, also: I miss you.

Steve let out a shaky laugh, half broken, half relieved, he pressed the phone to his chest, leaned back on the couch, and whispered into the quiet apartment “I miss you so damn much”

The hotel suite looked fancy, modern, clean yet also looked like nothing.

Bucky tossed his bag onto the couch, walked straight to the window, and pushed aside the curtain, Atlanta glowed beneath him, city lights, highways, busy movement that usually comforted him, but tonight it just made him feel… far.

His hand slid into his jacket pocket, closing around the one thing he had kept on him since they said goodbye at the airport Steve’s Polaroid, actually, their polaroid.

The one he took last, Steve laughing into Bucky’s shoulder right before Bucky kissed his cheek without thinking, the one Steve tried to snatch from him, blushing furiously while Bucky held it over his head.

God, that blush, he’d give anything to see it right now, he dropped onto the edge of the hotel bed, he didn’t turn on the TV, he didn’t unpack, he didn’t even take off his shoes.

He just opened the folder on his phone, Bucky + Steve, the name of the album he created on the plane when no one was looking.

He scrolled, picture after picture, Steve’s sun-warm skin, Steve’s soft, shy smiles, Steve looking into the camera like he was looking at Bucky, not through the lens.

His chest squeezed painfully, he had been so careful, all these years, so locked tight, so hidden and now everything inside him was loose and aching and wanting.

He brushed the pad of his thumb across Steve’s face on the screen, he didn’t realize his eyes were burning until a drop blurred the image.

He pulled his phone, typed ‘Hi’ sent it first, then his fingers were typing ‘I miss you’ and before he even finished, Steve also sent ‘I miss you’

His breath hitched, he laughed under it, that breathless sound you make when you’re too full of feeling and it hurts in the sweetest possible way.

He didn’t think, he didn’t hesitate, he had typed it at the same time, as if they shared the same heartbeat.

Then he lay back on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm, smiling helplessly into the emptiness.

Natasha was right, he was gone, completely, undeniably gone for him.

And the stupid part? He didn’t mind… Not even a little.