*1854 Words*

*this is a very heavy chapter, so I would proceed with caution. There is some kissy stuff and then some abuse. (Not between Steve and Bucky)*

*OH MY GOSH GUYS 100 READS HOW? THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH AHHHHHHHHHHH*

(Bucky's POV)

*a couple weeks after the death of Steve's mom (part of this scene is from Captain America: The Winter Soldier)*

"We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery." I explained.

"I know, I'm sorry," He put his hands in his pockets as he sulked up the stairs. "I kinda wanted to be alone," He sighs.

"How was it?" I questioned, following him up the stairs to what was his mother's apartment.

"It was okay." He stares at the ground with a blank face, almost expressionless. Like he feels no emotions anymore, "She's next to dad." He lets out with a long face and pushes a tear aside, hiding his pain from me. Thinking I don't notice.

I try my best to change the subject, knowing how hard it is for him to talk about his feelings. I can't get him to accept the fact that everyone is down sometimes.

"I was gonna ask-"

"I know what you're gonna say, Buck."

"We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids. It'll be fun!" I reply, observing his movements. He reaches into his pocket for a key, like he always did when we were on our way home from school, only to realize there was nothing there. "All you gotta do is shine my shoes, take out the trash," I look him in his electric eyes, losing myself in them. "Maybe give me a kiss every now and then," I smirked, pushing my hair back, messing up the gel.

He starts to look in his jacket for the keys when I remember Sarah told me about a spare key. I used my foot to kick over a brick and reveal it. I hold the shiny silver piece of metal up to him and he looks back at me. His sideburns reaching down to his chin, his jawline begging to be touched.

"Come on," I hand the key to him.

"Thank you Buck, but I can get by on my own." He looks down at my feet and meets me in the eyes.

"The thing is," I shake my head, trying my best not to cry, "You don't have to." I grab his shoulder, causing a small gasp to escape from his dry lips. I look him dead in the eyes, "I'm with you till the end of the line pal."

His stupid little perfect face beams up at me, causing me to submit into a wide grin. I reach to give him a hug and he pulls me into a kiss.

"How long is this line, Buck?" He says in-between kisses.

"However long we live, Stevie. If 100 years, you better be ready to help me out of my wheelchair, pal." I let out a chuckle.

"Whatever it takes to keep you with me. I'll never let you go." He responds, pulling me into one last kiss. "Now let's go set up those cushions!"

I wrap my arm around his scrawny little shoulders and we walk back to my place, a spring in our feet and smiles on our faces.

And a longing in my crotch.

*a couple weeks later*

He walks in with a sizable smile on his face, almost like he did something. I am no doubt happy for him, but he seems so happy for the first time in a long time.

Ever since...well, ya know.

But when he walked over and his smile beamed down on me, I couldn't resist.

"What's happening Stevie?" I ask, looking at his lips as if they are the only thing that matters, they start to form words and I meet his eyes.

Man, his lips aren't the only thing that matters.

Dang. Could they get any blue-er?

"I got into the art school!" He shouted, his smile grew even larger.

"I knew you would!" I practically screeched, jumping off my couch and rushing to give him a hug.

I pulled him in for a tight embrace, wrapping my arms around his small figure. He smells of paint, I guess he was painting earlier.

"I'm so proud of you," I whisper in his ear and he shakes a little. He pulls me in closer and grips me hard as he can.

I'm in the best place on earth.

In Steve's arms.

Well technically, he is in mine.

We stand there holding on to each other, not knowing what else to do...but also not wanting to do anything else.

This is perfect, just the way it is.

He pulls away and looks at me with his ocean eyes. I could drown in his beauty.

He walks over to the record player on my table and puts on a tune.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

He looks so perfect standing there, with his hair swooped in a blond mop. I want to run my fingers through it, I want to touch him.

I walk over and place my hand in his. I put one arm on his waist, earning a blush from Stevie. He puts his free hand on my shoulder and stares at me.

I wonder what he is thinking.

We sway to the music and laugh, Stevie stepping all over his toes while he attempts to dance.

He steps on my shoes, and a look of fear enters his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Buck," He apologizes.

"Come here you punk," I bend my head down and give him a kiss. I place my hand on the back of his head and start stroking his hair.

He kisses back, of course, with desperation and eagerness. A usual for him.

I smile through the kiss, "Slow down there punk."

"Jerk."

I place my lips on his again and move him to the couch. We sit down and I place him on top of my lap. He continues to lock his lips on mine, slipping his tongue in to 'spice things up'. His lips taste like strawberries and I absolutely love it.

I move down to his neck and start placing small kisses, he lets out a small whimper.

I go to take off his shirt when I hear the door creak open.

"James? You home- OH MY God" My father screams as he opens the front door.

Oh god. Oh fuck. He was supposed to be gone another day.

Shit.

"James Buchanan Barnes get your ass over here. Steve. Get out of my house." He screamed. He picked up a glass bottle on the table and smashes it over my head. Pieces of glass fly everywhere. I watch Steve run out the door and pause, to look at me. He looks like he wants to fight back my dad but I shoot him a look that says 'you will die' and he backs away.

"Dad! What the HELL?" I scream back at him, standing tall. He pushes my back to the wall and starts screaming at me.

"You think I'll allow a Pansy in my house?"

"Well you have for your whole life," I smirk back.

"This was a recent choice, bitch! I didn't raise you this way!"

He grabs my arm and squeezes it, causing pain to shoot up into my shoulder. He lets go and smacks me right on the spot he grabbed. He shoves me to the ground; I don't have time to process any of it until I hit the ground, using my left arm to break my fall. I feel the bones in it snap due to the intensity of the fall. Shards of glass stick into my back.

"Dad!" I yell, tears running down my face.

"I'm no father of a daffodil, James. Get your fag ass out of here before I spank it off ya."

I rush out of the house, holding my arm up with the other. I find Steve waiting by the front door.

"My place?" He suggests. I nod, the look of terror still kept in my eyes. He rubs my back and looks at my arm.

"Oh my gosh, it's swelling." He says, looking at me with sympathy.

He grabs my hand and we walk, avoiding main streets.

We get to the front door of Sarah's old apartment and I see his hand hesitate to turn the doorknob.

I place my hand on his, look at his pretty face, and find it to be in tears.

"This is all my fault." He wailed, gesturing to my arm. "They would have never figured out if it weren't for me. You wouldn't be hurt if it weren't for me."

"Steve, Stevie." I open the door and shut it behind me, all while keeping him in my arms. Even though it hurts a little, I hold him.

I sit down on the couch and he takes off my shirt. He grabs cotton sheets out of the kitchen and comes back with other medical supplies from the closet.

"Stevie, I would rather be hated for being myself than be liked for living a lie," I whisper out as he takes the shards of glass out my back with tweezers. "I don't like girls. I like Steve. That kid who didn't know when to give up. That is the person I need right now." I turn around and give him a hug.

He looks up at me and sniffles.

"Wanna get an apartment together?" He smiles, a plan entering his smartass brain.

"Hell yeah I do!"

"And I can paint all over the walls!" You can actually see the gears turning in his head, it's something that's so wonderful to sit back and watch.

After years of abuse from my father, he finally lashed out on me physically, and that was enough to get me to leave. Jokes on him, I'm gonna have a new life with Steven Grant Rogers and we are going to see the world together.

Fuck you dad.

Steve finishes up cleaning my wounds and bandages me up.

He continues to spurt ideas of how we can make a new life in southern Brooklyn.

"Sounds great Stevie. Now let's get some sleep." I kiss his forehead and he helps me lay down on the couch. He lays a blanket over me and retires to a nearby chair.

I sit and watch him while I'm all snuggled up on the couch his mom and I used to sit on. Steve would come out with his newest drawing and we would sit back and watch as he proudly shows off to the ones he loves.

"Steve?" The sound of his name lifts his head up, "Can you come lay with me?" I ask, stretching a little.

"Of course, Bucky." He walks over and lays down, pulling the blanket over him a little. He wraps his arms around my chest and lets out a deep breath. I wince a little because of my arm, I can feel the bones lose in it. But he falls right asleep, on me. I'm wide awake, yet it feels like I'm living the dream.

Today was a rough day, I had to deal with a lot of bullshit.

Something that always seems to calm me down is knowing that I'll have little Stevie with me.

And that's all that really matters.

Till the end of the line.