Chapter Text
Two months later
Summer in DC was always far too hot, and far too humid. Bucky's sweating through his shirt already, and it's barely ten in the morning.
"Riles, I told you, I'm really not feeling it today," he says. From the other side of the line, he hears Riley sigh.
"Well, Sam's at work. On a Saturday. I'm bored, and I wanna get out of this house. And I can't go by myself because everywhere in this damned city is build for those of y'all who can move your legs."
"I had a really hard night last night," Bucky tries again. And it's true - he did. Tony, in all his misplaced love, had set up a date to try and get Bucky feeling better; because Tony thinks that sex is the best thing to make a person feel better. Bucky should not have gone. The guy was a complete asshole who belittled Bucky about every little thing, told him he was only good for sex, then left as soon as he saw Bucky had a prosthetic. It hadn't been the best for his self-esteem.
"All the more reason to get out," Riley shoots back. "I know you, man - you mope and make yourself feel worse. Please come out? We can get ice-cream."
"...Caramel chocolate?" Bucky finds himself asking. He can almost hear Riley's smugness through the phone.
Ten minutes later, Bucky's walking down the street with Riley wheeling along next to him and silently hating everything.
"It is a bit hot outside, isn't it?" Riley says cheerfully.
"It is ninety-five degrees," Bucky grumbles. "And it's so goddamned humid I feel like I'm in a sauna. Fuck this place."
"You'd prefer New York?" Riley shoots back. "With its rotting garbage smell?"
"I guess not. But this still sucks. I should move to Alaska."
"You and I both know you're terrible in cold weather."
They bicker the whole way to the ice-cream shop, only pausing briefly to order before going right back into it. Bucky has to hold both their ice-creams because Riley needs both hands to steer, and they find a nice spot in the East Potomac Park where there aren't many people. Bucky sits on a bench and Riley parks his chair next to the bench and they watch a young mother try and stop her children from jumping into the pond.
"Sam and I haven't seen you in a while," Riley says after they've finished their ice-creams.
"I know," Bucky mumbles. "I'm sorry, I just..."
"Yeah."
They're quiet for a few minutes.
"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?" Riley says gently. "I know you're still getting over the whole Steve thing, but if you ever need anything..."
Bucky nods. After a pause, he asks meekly, "Can I... stay with you guys for a couple of days? I don't think I wanna be alone."
"You wanna help me cook tonight?" Riley asks. "We can make that stew you like. I know it's not the weather for it, but..."
"Thanks," Bucky mumbles. "That'd be nice."
Since it's the school holidays and the kids are all at home, Bucky has nothing to do until school went back in September. It was pretty much the worst possible timing, so Bucky spends his days volunteering at the homeless shelter down the road and hanging out with Riley. The date Tony set him up on was, unfortunately, not the only one he was subjected to. One of the guys even seemed nice, but Bucky could barely look at him without seeing Steve.
One day in mid-July Bucky's sitting at his kitchen table going over the syllabus for the next school year and simultaneously cooking a cake for Riley's book club when there's a knock on his door.
Frowning, Bucky stands up and makes his way over to the door. It couldn't be Sam - he's at work, and Riley isn't meant to be coming by until three. It could be Mrs Flannagan, or another one of his neighbours, coming to ask for some sugar or inviting him over for a cup of tea. It could even be Tony, with a new idea for an upgrade for his arm. Of all the people he was expecting on his doorstep, he never would have thought it was Steve.
But it was. Standing in front of his apartment door, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched like he's ready to get thrown out. He's looking up from under his eyelashes nervously, shuffling his feet and looking both determined and terrified.
"Steve," Bucky says dumbly.
"Hey, Buck," Steve says, rocking back and forth on his heels.
"You're here."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, then pauses. "Can I come in?"
Bucky holds the door open for him silently, still trying to wrap his head around the face that Steve's in his apartment.
"You want a drink?" he finds himself saying, moving into the kitchen.
"Uh, just a glass of water."
Bucky grabs two glasses and fills them with water, and brings them over to the couch. He motions for Steve to sit down as he places the waters on the coffee table, and Steve hesitantly lowers himself onto one end of the couch. Bucky sits down on the other side, his back to the armrest and his legs drawn up to his chest.
"I, uh, saw you cancelled the wedding," Bucky says after a pause. "How'd that go?"
"I told Peggy first," Steve admits. "She asked if it was because of you."
"It wasn't, was it?" Bucky has to ask. "You didn't leave her just for me, right?"
"I left her because I didn't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. You just... gave me the courage to do it." Steve takes a deep breath. "She was pretty upset. And Mr Carter was - god, he was furious - talking about how much this wedding meant to the family, how much money they'd spent on it... It's why I didn't come sooner. That, and I didn't actually know where you lived."
"So how'd you find me?" Bucky asks, unable to stop the shaking in his voice.
"Angie, the wedding planner. She's Peggy's friend, but I guess she felt sorry for me. She sent me your address." Steve shifts a bit closer on the couch, and Bucky can't help but move closer too, letting Steve take his hands.
"If you don't want me here," Steve says carefully, "I'll go. I won't bother you anymore. If you just wanna be friends again, we'll just be friends."
"You and I both know we could never be just friends," Bucky murmurs, and squeezes Steve's hand. Steve looks up from their hands to meet Bucky's eyes, barely-concealed hope shining from his face. "But we also know we can't go back to what we used to be."
"Bucky..." Steve gently pulls Bucky into his arms, and Bucky can't help but melt against him, resting his head on Steve's chest with a soft sigh. "I love you. And I kick myself every day for leaving you, but I want to give us a second chance. And I get it if you don't want that, if you want nothing to do with me, but I had to ask. I had to see if you would take me back."
"I'm not the same person I used to be," Bucky whispers. Steve kisses the top of his head.
"I don't care."
Bucky looks up to find Steve's face inches from his own. "You're sure? About me?"
"I've always known I was gonna spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart," Steve murmurs, holding Bucky's face in his hand. His thumb brushes the soft skin just under Bucky's eye. "End of the line, pal, remember? I could never give up on you."
Steve barely gets the end of his sentence out before Bucky's lunging up to slam their lips together, his hands sliding up from Steve's chest to cup his face. Steve's grip tightens around him, and before he knows it Bucky's being hoisted up to sit fully on Steve's lap, a hand curled in his hair stopping him from moving away. He gladly surrenders to it, Steve's tongue burning a trail across his lips and into his mouth and Steve's hands gripping him tightly but so sweetly.
When they break apart Bucky's half-hard and gasping for breath, and Steve doesn't look much better, with his flushed cheeks and blown-out eyes.
"Stay with me," Bucky gasps out. "Please."
Steve's eyes start looking a little watery, but honestly, Bucky's in no place to judge - he can already feel the lump in his throat. "Oh sweetheart, there's nothing that'll keep me away from you again."