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“Would ya just look at all of ‘em, Buck!”
“I am, Rogers, have been for the past half hour.” The two were laying down in the meadow they’d always loved, with fireflies floating around their heads, staring at the night sky. They’d planned this excursion all week, plotted every detail on how they would sneak out of the house, meet at Bucky’s, and drive to their favorite place since the ages of seven. They knew the exact time frame in which their parents would be in bed, and how long they’d wait until it was deemed safe to sneak out the back door and meet outside of Bucky’s garage. They had driven his motorcycle, a present from his parents for his seventeenth birthday, which was now parked on the side of the road.
Steve was all but curled into Bucky’s side, shivering despite the two flannel shirts he was wearing. He hoped that it wasn’t very noticeable; the last thing he wanted was for Bucky to turn once into the mother hen. He could almost hear the lecture - “What do you mean you left the house without gloves and a scarf?” “You didn’t bring an inhaler? What if you accidentally breathe in some pollen and die?” “You’re sneezing. Oh my god, it’s a terminal illness. That’s it, punk, we’re going to the hospital.” Steve usually didn’t mind it too much, at times it could even be flattering. But it wasn’t something he wanted, not now, when they were seeing the Milky Way, something that wasn’t possible in the town they lived in due to light pollution. Not when Bucky’s face was right there, right next to Steve’s, being illuminated by the moon. Not when both of them were only a matter of inches apart and he could smell the kiwi shampoo that Bucky always denied owning. Little did he know it was Steve's favorite scent for that reason alone.
“You have goosebumps. Are you cold?” Shit.
“Uh, no?” It was only half a lie. On one hand, he actually was chilly. On the other, that wasn’t the reason his skin was prickling.
“Yes you are,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowing and mouth pulling downwards in concern. Steve felt terror bubbling up in his stomach and chest; he didn’t want this to be the reason they left early. Not after all the effort they'd put into planning. But, to his surprise, Bucky didn’t start squawking like usual. He only sat up and pulled off his jacket. His nice, fancy leather jacket that he'd saved his money for months to afford. “Here, take this. Can’t have ya catching a cold, how’d we explain that to your mom?” Steve gave an involuntary little smile as Bucky reached over to wrap it around his shoulders, then looked downwards at his feet when he was unable to wipe it off his face. Not now. Don’t be so obvious. Don’t ruin this.
“Thanks, Buck,” he managed to whisper. He lifted up a sleeve, which was much too big for his arm and covered most of his hand, and gave an inconspicuous sniff. The jacket smelled nice. It smelled like Bucky.
“Don’t mention it, pal.” They lifted their eyes to the space once again, admiring the cluster of stars, planets, and nebulas laid out exquisitely to be viewed by their eyes only. “Isn't it too bad that so few people get to see this,” Bucky murmured, and Steve had to agree. The galaxy was too beautiful to go unnoticed. But, at the same time… that just made it even more special to Steve, to be there with Bucky, for the two of them to share this between themselves and nobody else. Maybe that was cheesy. And the teeniest bit selfish. However, it was true and Steve wouldn't deny it.
“Bucky, look!” A shooting star illuminated the sky, streaking just underneath Orion’s constellation. “Make a wish.”
Bucky closed his eyes, swallowed, and then opened them again. “Done.” Steve did the same, thinking his wish quietly even in his head, out of fear that if he wished too loudly Bucky would be able to hear. “Yeah, me too.”
“So what’d ya wish for?”
“Well I can't tell you, jerk, if you know what I wished then it won't come true,” Steve said with a light slap to Bucky’s arm. His cheeks felt hot, he was probably blushing. Hopefully Bucky wasn't able to see it.
“Then I’ll just have to connect the dots.”
“Wait, what's that supposed to m-” Bucky ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s mouth. Really, it was just a brush, a whisper, a ghost of their lips touching. But behind the quietness of it, Steve could feel the excitement and intensity behind it. Eagerness radiated from Bucky, and it gave away just how big of a deal this was for him. How frightened he was to do it, but how happy he was that he was doing it with Steve. Then just like that, it was over, Bucky pulled away and looked at the ground in shock. Steve floundered at the loss of contact. Did he do something wrong? He’d never had experience kissing, but one that short didn't leave much room for error in the first place. He was near panic, trying to figure out a way to apologize, until he saw the guilt on Bucky’s face. Oh. It dawned on Steve that, as confident as Bucky had always been, this was entirely new to him. He looked as if he was on the verge of crying as well, and Steve couldn't have that. So he reached for Bucky’s face, pulling it back down, and kissed with a little more strength than before.
When they pulled away this time, it was less scary and more serene. Less awkward and more tranquil. Less alarming and more perfect. Steve reached down and hooker his pinky finger around Bucky’s, then tried not to start giggling like a thirteen year old when he thought about how long he'd wanted that (too long. It had been too damn long).
“Well,” Bucky whispered, “I think mine just came true.”