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Steve and Bucky were savoring those small moments of peace.
Steve was a fugitive, yet he still felt a duty toward the innocent, people who needed protection but wouldn't get it because of the Accords.
While he, Sam, and Wanda made it their mission to look after those people acting as fugitives, as rogues; T’Challa was challenging the constitutionality of the Accords in court, showing everyone who was truly to blame for the events that had been cited as proof of the Avengers' irresponsibility.
Regarding the outcry over his father’s death, T’Challa had noted that the only condolences he’d received came from the very people who were now fugitives; condolences offered, of course, before that dramatic turn of events forced them on the run.
The released footage showing the conditions Wanda had been subjected to had stirred public sentiment; soon, they would all be able to return home, free and hailed as heroes rather than branded criminals.
Steve could wait, and he loved waiting right there, at Bucky’s side, huddling close just as they had when they were kids, even though, with all the space and resources they had now, such closeness wasn't strictly necessary.
As he turned to make a comment about the baseball game they were watching, Steve noticed Bucky’s hair had fallen over his eyes, as it often did.
Unlike other times, when Steve would wait for Bucky to realize his hair was in his eyes and brush it back on his own, that time Steve reached out slightly, raising his hand to gently sweep the lock of hair away from Bucky’s face and tuck it behind his ear.
Then, as he pulled his hand back, he noticed Bucky went rigid not because of the touch itself, but because of the moment it ended. As he turned his gaze back to the game, Steve filed the information away for later.
A few days later, it happened again.
They were reading a magazine together, and Steve had turned to watch Bucky read a passage aloud, loving the sound of Bucky’s voice and knowing Bucky was aware of it, which was exactly why he was reading.
Then, a lock of hair fell from behind Bucky’s ear again, and without missing a beat, Steve tucked it back in place, noticing how the tension drained from Bucky’s body the moment Steve’s hand touched his hair.
Over the next few days, Steve kept tucking Bucky’s hair back, noticing how he seemed to relax each time it happened.
Bucky would keep reading without interruption, save for a brief moment where he’d close his eyes for a second, savoring the contact.
One evening, the night before Steve was due to leave for another mission, Steve fixed Bucky’s hair again, that time leaving his hand near his friend’s temple a moment too long, knowing he would soon be leaving him alone once more.
Just as he moved to pull his hand away, not wanting to make the comforting gesture awkward, Bucky leaned his head into Steve’s touch. Steve froze, realizing his friend was also deviating from their usual routine.
Bucky opened his eyes and looked at Steve, taking his breath away all over again. The serum had many advantages, but the best was giving Steve the ability to see colors; Bucky’s eyes were the most beautiful color in the world, and Steve had spent sixteen years unaware of it.
It came as no surprise to him that so many girls had chased after Bucky back in their teenage years. With eyes like that, Steve would have expected a lot more.
After a brief silence, Bucky simply said, “Keep doing that.”
Without asking any questions, Steve did exactly that. He ran his fingers with all the gentleness he possessed and usually reserved for his drawings through Bucky’s hair; in response, Bucky closed his eyes and rested his head against Steve’s shoulder, leaning closer to the blond man and clearly savoring the contact.
Smiling, Steve did the same.