"We should head back soon," Bucky said absently as he watched the sun sink lower into the horizon. Steve nodded.

They'd gotten out of the water hours ago and had mostly done nothing, and those hours doing nothing, Bucky would treasure forever.

"Oh, hey," Steve said suddenly, sitting up. "I've got a soccer game coming up this weekend."

Bucky perked up. "Yeah? When? At your school?"

"Four o'clock, Rosewood Secondary School," Steve recited. Bucky grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll be there."

Steve smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Buck. It's our fifth game of the season and I just really hope I actually get to play this one," he said and Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I was benched a lot because of injuries," Steve explained. "I'm, uh, a bit of a clutz."

"Huh." Bucky studied him a moment. "Wouldn't have expected that from one of their most gifted students."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Not really one of the most gifted," he said as they began packing up the remains of their lunch.

"You're smart and talented, shut up," Bucky answered, nudging him. Steve smiled a little.

////

George stood in the window while his son and Steve bounced the rubber ball back and forth. Steve bounced it on his knees and Bucky grinned as he watched him.

George frowned to himself as he rapped his knuckles against the window. Bucky looked up and George waved awkwardly. Bucky raised an eyebrow but turned back to Steve, and they began talking.

"He nervous about me being here?" Steve murmured. Bucky shook his head, glancing back up to the window.

"Hope not." Bucky scuffed the ground with his shoe. "He's a good guy, he just doesn't understand."

"Yeah."

George knocked again and Bucky sighed. "Be right back." He ran inside and up the stairs, careful not to wake his mom.

George stood in the window. Bucky watched his shoulders slump. "Bucky?"

"What's up?" Bucky cautiously stepped into the room. George turned around and offered him a small smile, and a sigh.

"You and Steve, son. I -- "

Bucky closed his eyes, prepared. "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that this is a mistake, but if it is?" Bucky took a shaky breath. "Then let it be my mistake. I like Steve, Dad, I really, really do. And -- I just -- "

"I understand," George said quietly. He paused for a second. "Buck, I want to introduce you to someone. Her name's Natalia, I know her father, Ivan. She's coming to visit her friend Dmitri."

Bucky stared at him incredulously. "You want me to meet a girl?"

George lifted his hands in a simple gesture, raising his eyebrows. "You two might hit it off, and -- " Bucky stared at him and swallowed hard, then his gaze flickered to the window. To Steve, sitting in the grass, his hair blowing in the wind. Bucky kept telling him to get it trimmed. "Either way, she's coming here and I told Ivan I'd keep an eye out for her. The least you can do is meet her."

"Right." Bucky's voice was harder. "You want a girl I've never met to change me. You want me to date this girl and break up with Steve."

"Now, I never said that," George said sternly, crossing his arms. "All I ask is you give it a chance. Maybe you'll make a new friend."

"Sure." Bucky looked at him and walked out briskly.

////

The week droned on and on while Bucky wrestled with everything. Meeting a girl he was supposed to "hit it off with" never sounded like much fun.

So, instead, he focused on Steve and found himself calming down.

He hadn't expected him to become such a huge part of his life. It seemed fairytale, a simple story, but here it was, come to life, and Bucky loved it.

He liked Steve a lot, and no girl was going to change that. Satisfied, Bucky rolled over in bed and looked at Charlie, and felt the doubts creep in again. So he sat up against the wall and run his fingers through his messy hair.

"Charlie," he said softly, leaning over and kicking him in the leg. Charlie grunted and rolled over, the bed frame creaking under his weight. "Charlie," he hissed.

Charlie blinked at him, bleary-eyed. "What do you want? It's four in the morning," Charlie hissed back, rubbing his eyes.

"What do I do about Steve?"

Charlie stared at him as he processed his question. "As in, you have a legitimate problem in your relationship or you've realised you're actually hella straight?"

"God no," Bucky muttered. "I really like him, Charlie."

"We've heard, yes." His sarcasm didn't escape Bucky, but he decided not to comment.

"Dad wants to set me up with a girl."

The silence stretched while Charlie thought, then he started giggling.

"You're doomed, little brother."

Bucky threw a pillow at his face.

////

"Soccer!" Teddy threw a hacky sack at Bucky as he thundered down the stairs. "Can we come?"

Bucky was about to interject when Emma piped up. "It's been weeks since they've gotten out of the house," she added, gesturing with a sausage. Bucky groaned a little and turned to his mom, who raised her eyebrows.

"Come on, be a dear and bring your siblings to your boyfriend's soccer game," she chided, giving him pointed look. Bucky was about to interject again, but changed his mind and finally nodded.

"Fine." He looked at Teddy, who beamed and wrapped around his legs. Bucky smiled at the gesture. "Go get dressed, weirdo."

He grabbed a paper plateful of sausages, saluted to his mom, and marched up to his room. He had all day, but he wanted to see Steve.

Busy with his studies, Steve hadn't been able to hang out much. Soccer practice was insane, and apparently, exams were soon. Charlie would go to college in the new school year; summer was coming up.

Bucky, for once, was glad he didn't have to go to school.

He leapt across to the balcony again -- he'd missed doing that so much -- and knocked on Steve's door. A half-asleep Steve answered, pulling the glass door open and blinking tiredly at the bright-eyed Bucky beaming at him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he crooned as he handed over the plate he'd made up. Steve looked at it slowly, then back up at Bucky. "I noticed your car was gone so I assumed your parents are out to work now? And, ah, I didn't know if you'd eaten, so," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck and motioning to the plate of food.

"Thanks, I love sausages," Steve mumbled as he accepted the plate, disappearing back into his room. Bucky stood there and tried not to laugh. Steve poked his head back out. "Don't take my words out of context."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Steve baby." Bucky stepped into the room and closed the door. Steve was sleepily chewing his food and Bucky leaned back on his bed. "Type'a bed you even got?"

"It's called the Prince's Majesty or something like that," Steve sighed. "I need coffee."

"Prince's Majesty?" Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "Suits you."

Steve smirked and walked out, and Bucky followed. They had the house to themselves that day, up until 3:30 at least.

They could do what they wanted until the game.