pov steve~

I watched him gently toss the covers off of himself as he sat up. "What- er, what do you mean?" Bucky asked.

"What's there to explain?" I asked, confused. "You... loved me and I, you. We were in love in the 1930s, despite how impossible that might sound."

"Are you... how can you be sure that- who else knows about this?" He asked me.

"No one... that's how we managed to make it work. And, also, that's why Tony put you with me, er- that's why I told him to put you with me. I never told him or anyone about us because, frankly, you were literally considered to be insane if you were gay in the 30s an-"

"Yea," Bucky interrupted. "That actually does sound insane... I mean- I'm not even sure if... or, that I'm," He stopped. he seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment, which, is fine. I know a lot is being thrown at him right now, and not just in this moment.

"Buc-"

"Let me finish my thought," he interrupted again. "Can you explain this to me, how it - we -  worked or how any of that was even possible because like, I'm honestly lost at this point. I literally cannot even fathom any of this bein-"

"Being real?" I added in. "Yea it was pretty incredible... surreal, even, let me tell you..."

It was so inexplicably and unimaginably cold outside that night.

But then again, what else was to be expected of a snowy Wednesday night in early December in Brooklyn?

Besides that, there actually was a real issue... a serious problem. We may or may not be locked out off my mom's place and have to sit outside in the snow. And, to be fair, it wasn't really my fault, okay?  Not saying it's Bucky's fault, er- it's no one's fault. My mom just got caught up at the  Hospital... they got an influx of new patients at the TB Ward and, therefore, she won't be home for a bit and she's the only one with a key. No biggie.

Right?

I was in a massive jacket and snow pants accompanied with gloves, a hat and a big scarf that covered my mouth and nose. The only things visible were my eyes; I doubt there was even any hair visible through all of the layers.

Despite this, I felt chills running up and down my back, spreading through each nerve and crawling all across my skin as the wind picked up speed for a brief moment. I looked over at him and we had both been in the same position... curled up in a ball with our knees bent and our arms crossed as we sat on and shared a snow covered stone step leading up to the apartment complex.

He glanced over at me and I felt almost warm for a second, possibly... maybe. It felt like something was being ignited with a spark almost certainly within me, but undeniably between us.

He scooted closer so that our sides were touching and eventually looked down at our shoes that were, somehow already, beginning to appear dusted in a thin layer of snow.

"We..." he started, "we gotta stay warm, Steve. I'm serious; this is- it's real dangerous out here," he explained as he pushed our bodies even closer together than they were before (if that was even possible).

"Yea... you're right," I agreed, like I always seemed to when it was just me and him.

And like that, everything seemed to change. He grabbed my hands in his and held them close, most likely in attempts to keep us warm. I looked up at him. I hadn't realized he was sitting that close... so close I could-

I resisted the need to let my eyes close and lean closer to him as he smiled at me. Don't smile at me, I thought... ugh, you see?  My logic is simple. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off of him if he smiled.

We sat there and didn't say a word, we just sort of stared out into nothingness. I listened carefully at that which surrounded me and heard the settling of snow covered tree branches

It felt like he was tugging my arm as if he was trying to pull it away from my body, yet once I gave into his will, it only seemed to bring us closer. I felt like I was looking up at him from under my eyelashes, feeling like I was right in front of his chest. I was so close that I could see his breath and feel the warmth emanating from it hitting the skin around my eyes, seeing how that was the only part of my face that was exposed.

His lips parted and, as he let out air from between them, I saw his eyes waver. They seemed to flicker down to the scarf around my neck, for a brief, almost insignificant, moment.

His one hand pulled away from the union that had been bundled at our chests. I looked down to see what he was doing, but he used his glove-covered-finger to push my chin up so that my eyes had no other choice but to look back up at his. When I caught his gaze, those stunning ice-blue eyes felt like they had pierced right through me in that moment just before he glanced away.

I felt the cold air rush onto my skin and saw my breath rise up between us as he slowly moved my scarf away from my cheeks. His eyes meandered up my reddening cheeks as they began to grow so inconceivably cold that they might as well be numb. I noticed that, out of self-consciousness on my own part, his cheeks were reddened too... it made me feel not so alone, oddly enough, that he would find himself afflicted by the same things as the likes of me.

His fingers rested near my neck, unintentionally grazing up against that sensitive skin. They slowly maneuvered their way up to my jaw and carefully lifted my chin up so that I might have a better view of his beautifully contoured face.

He looked down at my lips.

It felt like he did this a lot longer than what would have been considered to be normal and with this look of determination or intent of some sort looming around in his eyes. Somehow, they managed to remain that fixed tint of blue and that appearance of an almost crystalline type structure while I felt like mine might have started to deteriorate out of pure restlessness.

I felt his hand beneath my chin start to pull up. Our faces were so close to touching that it was... unbearable.

I let my lips part. What if we... no.

My heart roared in my ears as it pounded uncontrollably out of my chest. I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was happening to me. How could it be that I felt so full of warmth from a simple thought? From something that was so improbable? From something so... ethereal.

Then, my whole body went numb. I felt my eyes close as the edge of his lips brushed up against my own ever-so-lightly. Before I could process what had happened, I found my that my very own lips had opened up and his tongue had dipped timidly into my mouth.

As he pulled away slowly, I felt as if all the warmth had been sucked out of me and he had taken it with him. I opened my eyes to find that we were both equally as dazed and almost surprised at what had just happened.

"But it wasn't really all that astonishing... I had honestly thought it might have happened sooner because of how we had been acting around one another," I explained.

"What do you mean, how we were?" He asked.

"Well, It was obvious that we genuinely liked one another. It was almost destined to happen. We were bound to be together," I told him.

Bound to be together... back then? Yes.

Now? I'm not so sure.

"Bound, huh?" He repeated. "That's an awfully strong word for a simple feeling."

"It wasn't simple, not in any real sense of the word, anyway. It was simple in the way that it had been down to and exact science, of sorts, Buck. An algorithm. You do somethings and I'd play along, you go somewhere and I'd follow," I explained.

"That sounds just plain dumb to me," he commented, seeming like he barely cared about any of it anymore.

I looked at him like he needed to know deep down. It had to still be there, somehow. Somewhere. He's still in there. I can feel him.

"Bucky before us... before you- we, er, lemme explain from square one..."

"Buck... wait," I whispered quietly, Pulling my lips away from his as I placed my hands on his bare chest and gently pushed him away.

"What's wrong?" He played with my hair carefully between his fingers. "Are you alright?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Yes, of course," I paused, looking down at the little space between us. "Well, actually, I-"

"Whatever it is, Steve, don't worry," he interrupted. "Please. Just know you can trust me and that you can tell me anything... what's the matter? Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, really, it's nothing. It's just that I- I'm a little nervous about all this," I started. "I'm not scared," I hesitated to say. "I- I want this- er, well... okay, it's not necessarily a bad thing but I-"

"No way," he interrupted me again. "Get outta here," he continued with a chuckle, sounding genuinely surprised. "Steven Grant Rogers," He began, a big white smile plastered to his face. "Are you like, a virgin?"

I looked down and felt my cheeks start to burn up. I tried not to look at him, out of an irrational fear that simple eye contact might make what he had just said more true.

"Maybe," I conceded, eventually.

"Well well well... I think you're going to have an incredible time tonight, Steve," he assured me. "Don't you worry. You're in good hands," he announced, moving his hands in order to cup my jaw.

He pulled my face up to his and kissed me again, walking us backwards until my legs hit the tiny twin bed I had slept in for my whole life. He kept pushing me, though, until my back hit the pillows and he was on top of me and his hands were roaming all over me and I, somehow, was already feeling so many different ways that I had never felt before.

It was so incredibly inexplicable.

My shirt was off. Then my pants and shoes and socks... then all of his clothes until it was just us in our underwear.

His hands were moving in all the right places at all the right times. He started to rub me through the fabric and it was so much better than I could ever explain. It wasn't like anything I could ever do to myself but, at the same time, I suppose it, in fact, was.

I most certainly could grab myself through my shorts and make myself moan like no tomorrow if I so wished it. Surely that wasn't the difference, now was it? The real difference was that it was someone else, no, that it was him.

There was something magical about all of this, something unearthly.

Eventually, we were completely naked and, as I quivered below him at the simplest touch, I realized that I had never felt so unequivocally or irrevocably filled with liberty.

"Steve..." He started, almost afraid to continue.

"Yes?" I replied shyly.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked foolishly.

"I've never wanted anything more."

I saw a small smile tug at his cheeks as he realized that we had been on the same page all the while. That it was the same for me as it was for him. The we had both wanted one another in all the same ways for God knows how long.

As he pushed in, I felt this sort of pain... it was almost unbearable, but I would't dare tell him to stop.

I watch his every move. With the first thrust he seemed to grow weak under the intensity of the feeling but empowered to keep on... I can only assume, though, because that's how I had felt.

He took me in his hand and started pumping with the same rhythm as his in and out motions.

The pain slowly dissipated as he continued cautiously. When my grunts of pain turned to moans of longing, I felt him pick up his pace almost knowingly. It was insane how he just seemed to know.

He kept leaning down to kiss me., which, I felt was unnecessary but definitely not something I didn't want.

As I came into his hand, he watched me. I felt as though I had come undone before him; I was embarrassed at the fact that the had seen me in that state, that he had heard me moan his name and ask for more...

He kept on for only a few second longer before freezing mid-way through. His mouth opened ever-so-slightly as he quietly hummed to himself as he came inside me. That was an intense feeling, almost more so than coming myself.

But bigger than that, it's a feeling I don't think I'll ever forget.

"Is that really how it happened, Steve?" He asked, skeptically. "I mean, you could have very well made that up to ge-"

"To get something out of you? Or out of the situation? Why would I do that?" I asked, almost hurt but afraid to say anything more about it.

"I don't know..." he hesitated. "I'm just used to people taking what they can from me and digging to find the things that they can't just take so easily. It's hard living a life after them... after everything I've lived through and overcome, or at least tried to. I want to trust you, Steve, I really do. I'm just not so sure I can."

I felt so bad for him. That must have been... terrible.

"While I've always said that you can trust me and you've always said the same, I know it's hard for you to feel that again- to be able to put so much trust into someone you think you barely know. I mean, I'm responsible for helping you remember a life you used to live. A life you should still have but don't and I am so incredibly sorry for you, Buck," I told him. "From what you've told me, I can see that you're hurt. I wish I could help you, but I fear that re-telling your life story as well as I know it is the best that I can do."

Just then, he smiled. It almost seemed that he had been happy for a slight moment, that is, until it faded away again into nothing but pain. "I know it's all you can do, at least for now, and I thank you for that. For your time and for the endless efforts and, well, everything," he hadn't looked at me in a while, it was like the sight of me was unbearable. "Everything," he repeated, looking up at me, finally.

"It's the least I can do after everything we've been thorough, really."

And it was. I just hoped I wasn't taking a shot in the dark.