"This is gonna sound totally insane, but I chased a Nazi down twelve blocks and he ended up dead but I saved a boy. Also I'm big now because of an experiment by Stark that caused a growth spurt and I'm stronger than I thought I'd ever be, and that's the full truth."

He stares at his reflection and sighs. Bucky was never going to believe him; it sounded like the rantings of a crazy person.

Nazis in the 21st century? They should've gone extinct in the 40s. Now, incredibly at 24 years old, Steve was fighting literal Nazis and had superhuman speed, durability and strength, mentally and physically.

He had no idea how to tell his best friend.

Bucky was in Iraq currently, serving his third year of service. He was supposed to be back a week ago, but all Steve had heard about it was radio silence -- Bucky was off the grid.

Steve digs through his pocket for his phone, then calls Bucky for the sixth time. Again, voicemail -- Steve grunts in frustration and paces the carpeted living room floor. "C'mon, Buck, this is a call you're gonna want to take."

"Bucky Barnes, leave a message after the beep, please."

"Hey! It's me, I can't wait to see you," he says quickly as he walks. "Listen, I've got some news so you might wanna hurry home and -- "

There's a knock at the door. Steve yanks it open with more force than necessary, pulling the door off of its hinges.

Behind it stands Bucky Barnes, phone held to his ear with one hand and his other raised into a fist, after knocking on the door. He stares mutely at Steve, the door, the hinges, and Steve again.

"Steve?"

"Buck," he breathes, staring at him a moment, relief that he seems to be all in one piece. Then he does a double-take and remembers he's gripping their front door. He drops it and steps back, cheeks quickly becoming heated. He rubs the back of his neck.
"Um... door's open."

Bucky stares at him and slowly steps inside, snapping broken off strips of wood.

The silence stretches further. Bucky's eyes rake over this new version of Steve, his mouth agape, speechless. Steve clears his throat.

"Welcome home," he announces. "You... might wanna sit for this."

////

"You let Stark do what?" Bucky looks mortified as he stares at him over the back of the chair, arms folded along the backrest. Steve weakly throws his hands into the air.

"Okay -- I told you I wanted to come over there. To help fight, right?" Before Bucky can interrupt him, he holds up a finger. "Just -- just wait. I -- Stark offered me a chance I couldn't pass up."

"But you're -- you're big? What the hell did he do to you?"

Steve blew out a breath. "He gave me this serum, then a Nazi stole what was left of it," he says and Bucky rubs his face, leaning back.

"A Nazi?"

"Yeah, he had a gun. I didn't get shot though, he took some cyanide before he could kill me."

"Oh my God, Steve -- "

"I chased him like twelve blocks," he mumbles and Bucky groans into his hands.

"You're going to give me an aneurysm."

"I'm fine though," he adds, finally standing still, folding his arms. Bucky stares at him incredulously and scoffs.

"How'd they make you so big?" Bucky slowly stands and walks over to him, still eyeing him suspiciously. "Wait, are you on stilts? Is that like a fat suit but it's muscles instead? Are you doing that dodgeball thing where we all put them in our shirts -- "

"What? Dodgeball? Bucky, no -- "

"And we pretended to be pregnant ladies?"

"No," he dismisses, dropping his hands to his hips.

"Did it hurt?"

"A little," he says, recalling the feeling from only a couple days ago.

Bucky looks at him doubtfully. "Is it permanent?"

"So far."

Bucky hesitantly pokes his bicep, then raises his eyebrows. "And... Nazis?"

Steve shrugs, taking a seat, and Bucky joins him, leaning in closer to try to understand just what exactly he was getting involved in.

"He did the Nazi salute and everything, so... "

"Your fault for being blond, blue-eyed and handsome," he grumbles and Steve blinks. "And -- and what, super strength? Super speed?"

"Wanna see?"

Bucky frowns a bit. "I don't -- you know what, why the hell not."

////

Thus, they slowly begin to figure out just how exactly Steve's powers worked.

"Okay, go!" Bucky shouts and they take off in a sprint. The park seemed a good place to train, especially after hours when few other people were about.

Professionally trained, Bucky keeps a good, steady pace and manages to keep speed for a while, until Steve presses harder and pulls ahead impossibly faster. Rounding the bend, Bucky gapes at him.

He finishes the round before Bucky makes it halfway. Skidding to a stop, Bucky gasps for breath and turns, watching Steve run closer. "Okay, you won," he shouts, and frowns as Steve starts to pinwheel his arms; an attempt to slow himself down.

"Too fast -- too fast--!"

"Steve, watch it--!"

Trying to stop himself, Steve digs his heels in, but his momentum carries him forward, crashing into Bucky who falls backwards and cushions his fall.

Bucky wheezes, clutching Steve close as if having anything to hold on to would have helped. Steve, red-faced and cursing, struggles to sit up, looking alarmed.

"S***, Bucky, I'm so sorry -- "

"You are absolutely crushing my ribs," Bucky coughs and Steve rolls off of him. "Okay -- " he takes a deep breath and sits up, looking at him. "Step one: control your speed."

"Good note," Steve sighs, pulling him to his feet. Bucky smiles and laughs breathlessly, bent over with his hands on his knees.

"You know this is insane, right?"

Steve grins back. "Oh, absolutely. But you gotta admit -- it's cool."

Smiling and shaking his head, Bucky loops an arm around his shoulders and leads him home.

////

"Hey -- I have to go soon. I'm headed to Afghanistan, it's a three year call," Bucky says one day, casually, before they're both headed to their rooms. Steve stops and looks at him, his heart stuttering in his chest. "But I'll be able to call you, we can probably video chat, and I'm allowed like two visits a year when they can afford it."

"Three years? When do you leave?"

Bucky looks down. "A week," he says quietly. Steve, holding his bedroom handle, squeezes it a little too hard. There's a crack and he lifts his hand to see that the brass knob had crinkled. Bucky glances at it, at Steve, then sighs.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Well, I was busy being marvelled by the fact that my Stevie is literally a super hero," he says in a light-hearted manner, smiling and tilting his head. Seeing no response from Steve, his smile fades and he runs a hand over his cheek. "Steve, I'm sorry."

"I -- " He wanted to say I understand, or I know, but please be safe, but what came out was "I'll miss you, Buck."

Bucky studies him in the silence of their dark apartment, looking pained. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around him and presses his forehead against his shoulder. Steve responds in kind, although careful not to crush him. He pulls away first.

"I know, Steve," Bucky murmurs. "I'll miss you too."

He opens his door a crack, hesitates, and decides not to look back, knowing the look he'll see on Steve's face. He quietly slips into his room, and Steve silently enters his own.

The apartment seems extra quiet that night.

////

"Call me when you can," he reminds for the umpteenth time as he walks Bucky to the train station. Bucky rolls his eyes fondly and gives him a look.

"Geez, you'd think we're an old married couple," Bucky snorts.

"Wha-- are you saying you wouldn't marry me, Barnes? Not only is that rude, that's homophobic."

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, and Steve smiles with pride. He loved being able to make him laugh.

"Yes, doll, I will call you," he says sarcastically, ignoring the pink visible on Steve's cheeks, the burning of his own face. Steve grins at him and waves as he boards the train. "Stay outta trouble, punk! Don't do anything stupid until I get back!"

"How can I?" Steve smiles as the train begins to pull away. "You're taking all the stupid with you!"

Bucky flips him off but grins nonetheless, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Terrified but ready.

Steve watches his train pull out of sight.

The station goes quiet. Or, at least it seems quiet without a certain someone chatting his ear off. The smile on his face dims. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turns and makes his way home, but a flyer on the wall catches his eye. Recruitment for the US Army. Steve looks down at the ground, at the flyer, and after the memory of Bucky's train.

An idea clicks. With a certain determination, Steve walks with a purpose. Stay safe, Buck.

I'll be there soon.