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Summary
“Sit back on your heels,” Bucky ordered, just to see if Steve would follow the command. He did, beautifully. The vibranium of his shield clanked against the metal of the strange defunct machine behind him. Steve’s eyes looked up at Bucky with that sad longing reverence that made the ex-assassin spitting mad. Who the fuck taught Steve Rogers how to love, that he was wasting it on the man before him?
