First four in one update, and the rest in the next update. :)

////

Of course it was 2:00 am when Bucky sat up in bed, unable to sleep. Again.

Sighing, he slowly gets dressed, planning on walking to the convenience store to pick up some snacks. He could use the walk, he supposed.

He didn't expect to open his door to see someone sleeping in the middle of the hall, a blanket hastily thrown over their lower half.

Bucky stares down at them, then nudges them in the leg. "Uh... hello?"

The man rolls over and blinks up at him, blearily. "Hmm?"

"It's 2:00 am, uh... what the h*** are you doing?"

The man pushes himself up, rubbing his face. "Sleeping?" He looks up at him, frowning. "Why'd you wake me?"

"Because it's 2:00 am and you're sleeping in the middle of the hall." Bucky folds his arms over his chest.
The blond sighs and props his chin in his hands, closing his eyes. "Why are you sleeping in the hall?"

"Roommate kicked me out. I'm Steve," he says through a yawn. Bucky nods.

"Bucky," he replies and rubs his face. "Look -- Steve -- want to come inside or something? It's probably a little more comfortable."

Steve arches an eyebrow. "Really?"

Bucky shrugs. "It's too early to consider the consequences of having a stranger in my house. Please don't kill me in my sleep," he says, shuffling back inside. Steve gets up and follows him.

"Thank you, you really didn't have to do this," he says thankfully. Bucky gives him a small smile.

"Don't worry about it. Roommate's girlfriend?"

"Fiancée," he corrects, nodding. "They're, uh... loud."

Bucky makes a face. "Ah." He gestures to the couch. "Well, I hope you're okay with an old couch."

"It's fine, thank you," Steve says gratefully. Bucky waves a dismissive hand.

"There's coffee in the morning, please don't steal from me either," he mumbles, yawning. Steve nods again.

"Thank you."

"Mhmm. G'night," Bucky yawns as he shuffles into his room, collapsing onto the bed.

The next morning, he finds that Steve had repaid him by making a breakfast. Bucky then decided that he had made the right call.

They ended up seeing each other more frequently, then hanging out, and finally, after months, finally taking a dorm room together.

////

"Colin? Colin, c'mere, idiot," Bucky coos as he enters his apartment. Colin was a shaggy grey cat that was, frankly, an *sshole. They were pals, though.

Bucky calls him again, shakes the treat bag, and jingles his favourite toy. Still, nothing.

He frowns with worry. "Colin, c'mon," he sighs, his eyes landing on the open window, to the fire escape, down to the apartment below. His stomach sinks. "Crap."

He crawls out the window and scrambles down the stairs, spotting a fluffy tail disappearing behind a curtain. "Ugh, no, Colin," he groans, poking his head around the corner to peer into the apartment below, where the balcony door was wide open.

"S***." Bucky chews his lip before vaulting over the balcony rail, landing cautiously. He slowly edges his way inside, senses heightened.

"Colin," he hisses, reaching for his cat. "Come on, buddy. Be a good boy," he whispers, eyes darting around.

To his horror, he hears the apartment door click. He freezes. Colin was in the middle of tearing up his neighbor's couch, and Bucky looked like a robber.

Steve rounds the corner to come face to face with a terrified brunet, reaching forward, frozen in place.

Steve raises his eyebrows, mouth hanging open as he struggles for what to say. "What the h*** -- who the h*** are you?"

"I'm your neighbor." Bucky swallows nervously, eyes flickering toward Colin as the cat snakes his way into the kitchen. "Um... hi."

Steve sputters briefly. "Well, get out of my apartment."

"Wait, wait, wait, please don't call the cops," Bucky says quickly. "My cat, he's an *sshole, he snuck into your apartment and -- I'm just trying to get him back."

Steve scowls at him. "Stay here," he demands as he scouts his apartment for a cat. He finds him and carefully picks him up. Colin sits comfortably in his arms. He returns to the brunet and kneels down to his level. He shoots him a look.

"This cat."

"Yeah, that's the one. I'm so sorry," he sighs. "God, I am so sorry," he utters.

Steve strokes the cat absent-mindedly. Bucky looks up at him cautiously. "You won't call the cops, right? Please?"

"If I can visit your cat," he replies, shrugging. Bucky blinks.

"What."

"Your cat. Can I see him?" Steve raises an eyebrow. Bucky nods slowly, relaxing.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah," Bucky agrees. "Of course."

Steve smiles a little, and Bucky smiles back, relieved.

So Steve doesn't call the cops, and visits Bucky and Colin often. This weird relationship blooms and they end up sharing the cat when Steve moves in months later, as Bucky's boyfriend.

Their 'love at first sight' story was weird.

////

Steve sits down at the computer and pulls out the leftover USB flash drive left in the port by someone before him. Tilting his head, he tries to read a name that might be on the drive. After finding nothing, he has no choice but to plug it back in and scroll through to find whoever it belongs to, in order to return it.

"The Empty Traveler," he muses, coming across a file with only that title. He clicks it open, and finds a snippet of a story. Before he can stop himself, he begins to read.

...His eyes stung with tears, and he exhaled shakily. Trapped. Trapped in his mind with nowhere to run, because you can't run from yourself. You can't deny what you know to be true and you can't live with yourself, knowing... knowing you could be better.

Mark seemed to think differently. Jackson shook his head, choking on his tears. Mark was... good, too good. He would get himself hurt, or killed. And if it was destined to be Jackson's fault...

"Damn it," he cried, leaning against the grainy brick wall behind him, gripping his messy head of hair.

He had nowhere to run.

Steve blinks when he hears someone running up behind him. Instinctively, he closes out of the program, shuts everything down and pulls out the USB, twisting in his seat to face whoever is running towards him.

Steve had nowhere to go as a worried looking brunet stopped in front of him, breathing hard.

"Hey," he puffs, hands on his hips. "I forgot my flash drive here. It's important."

Steve hands it over quietly, trying to look innocent. The brunet catches on and he chews his lip worriedly.

"You... read some, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"I couldn't see who you were. I - I meant to find out, return it..,"

The brunet glances away, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry," Steve mumbles, red with shame. The brunet slumps into the seat next to him, thinking. Finally, he sighs and turns to him.

"Thoughts?"

Steve tilts his head to the side. "Hmm?"

"Since you read it, what do you think?" He looks at him expectantly. Steve explains what he noticed and, when the brunet -- Bucky, he was told later -- asked for criticism, he offered few spell checks and plot refining.

Steve ends up being his editor; he had a knack for it. Bucky's story becomes really popular, and he often thanked Steve for that. Steve insisted it was all Bucky.

Either way, they made a good team. Bucky wrote many novels and Steve edited and occasionally illustrated them. They were a happy pair and remained so for years more.

////

A quiet day in the park. That was all he wanted. It was a lovely, sunny day, and all Bucky wanted to do was get out, soak up some sun, and read his book. Apparently, that was too much to ask for.

He sits cross-legged on the bench, bent over his book. Some guys his age were messing around, throwing a football back and forth. Bucky pays them little mind, frowning whenever they let out a triumphant yell.

After the fifth interruption, he looks up with an annoyed look on his face. "Can you keep it to a dull roar?" he mutters to himself, rolling his eyes.

"Hey -- hey!"

More yelling. Bucky, annoyed, bookmarks his page and jerks his head up, opening his mouth to tell them off.

Then a football slams into his face and he falls backwards, landing with a thud on the grass.

He opens his eyes and it feels as if he's been out for hours, when it was maybe almost three minutes. Groaning, he blinks to see three blonds standing above him, looking worried. He blinks again and the three focus into one.

"I am so, so sorry," he apologises profusely, biting his lower lip worriedly. Bucky doesn't respond, his head still spinning. He hesitantly touches his mouth where he tastes blood, and frowns.

"The h*** did..?"

"I threw the football too hard." The blond looks ashamed. "Can you move?"

Bucky grunts as he sits up, dizziness washing over him as he does so. He rubs his face and winces.

"That's one h*** of an arm," he croaks, looking up at him. All that was registering was that this blond guy was very attractive, and had also hit in directly in the face. He wasn't sure what to be more concerned about.

"God, that looks awful." The blond winces for him. "Can I..?"

Bucky shrugs, sitting quietly. The blond checks his injury, frowning.

"Sam has an ice pack, want me to grab that?"

Bucky nods a little, rubbing his eyes gingerly. He starts to shakily stand and the blond helps him up, holding his arm. Bucky realises he doesn't have his name, so he asks.

"Steve," comes the blond's reply. Bucky nods, walking on his own. Steve continues to apologise as they grab the ice pack. Bucky presses it against his face and sighs, the ground still tipping under his feet. He steadies himself against Steve's arm and the blond supports him.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I'll have a headache, but yeah," Bucky answers.

"Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Bucky shrugs. "It's fine."

"No, really."

The brunet sighs and rubs his eyes. "Um... could you guys play quieter?" He was sheepish even asking. Steve smiles and nods instead.

"Of course."

Bucky visits the park often, and more often than not Steve is there with his friends, playing around again. Quietly, though. It was music to his ears.

Occasionally, Bucky would join in for a game; try something new. Or Steve, instead of running around with the boys, would take a break to read with Bucky, who introduced him to stories he hadn't read before.

The two became a couple this way.

Steve was lying in the grass with his head in Bucky's lap, dozing, while Bucky was reading a book, quietly mumbling the words so only they two could hear.

"Hey, thanks for hitting me in the face with that football," Bucky mentions, interrupting the story. Steve opens an eye, looking up at him. Bucky smiles a little. "Else we wouldn't have met."

"I guess," Steve agrees, smiling a little. Bucky goes back to reading, absent-mindedly combing his fingers through his hair while Steve slept.

That day was a good day, and they had many more.

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I think the second and the last were my favourites. Did you guys prefer one to another?