49 to 53. Let me know if you guys are actually enjoying these things, because I just don't know.

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"I can't promise you that..."

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"You'll be careful, right?"

"I can't promise you that..." Bucky frowned and tried to fix his jammed gun. Steve watched him worriedly.

"You can. Promise me you'll come back," Steve insisted, leaning forward on his cot. Bucky rolled his eyes, so Steve gave him a deadly look. "Promise."

Bucky looked at the gun. "Promise," he sighed, meeting his gaze.

They set out into the battle, armed and mostly ready. It was a beach fight, and Steve was not looking forward to it.

It went on for hours, men simply collapsing from exertion.

Steve managed to hide behind a pile of the dead, choking on the smell. Bucky joined him, white as a sheet.

"Captain commanded a retreat," he gasped. He ducked his head as planes whistled by overhead.

"How?" Steve poked his head up and instantly regretted it as he came face to face with another soldier. They instantly let out a yell and grabbed him, dragging him into view. "Run!" Steve yelled at Bucky, who was scrambling to his feet.

"Steve -- "

"Now!"

Bucky ran, kicking himself. "S***, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hissed as he sprinted, tears forming in his eyes. He would be back for Steve; he promised him, after all.

He skidded to a stop and whirled around to look at him. He promised him. Bucky dove behind some concrete and hurriedly armed his gun, then aimed with shaking hands. In the distance there was Steve, fighting hand-to-hand with the enemy soldier. He looked wounded.

Bucky lined up the shot and forced himself to breathe. Steve twisted and fought, then after kicking the enemy down, he managed to escape. He started to run towards the brunet, and Bucky focused on his aim.

He breathed out and let the bullet fly. The enemy agent collapsed behind Steve, and he ran faster. Bucky slumped over, panting, relieved.

And he was grabbed and dragged through the sand, shouting and kicking. "You sonofab****, get offa' me!" He scrambled for a hold, grabbing fistfuls of sand as he was pulled backwards.

Bashing his head against a rock in the flail knocked him out.

Steve didn't see him after that day. He spent the next day searching up and down the beach for hours, checking bodies and other places for Bucky.

He didn't know it was Bucky who had saved his life. He didn't know if he was dead or alive. He didn't see Bucky again.

////

"Promise me you'll come back... I need you to promise me."

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"I'd stay with you if I could, you know," Steve murmured, leaning against the door frame.

"You're going into a godd*** war zone," Bucky growled, glaring up at him. "What do you think'll happen?"

"I know." Steve looked to the ground, frowning, folding his arms. Bucky gave him a desperate look.

"Promise me you'll come back," he demanded, stepping closer. "I need you to promise me."

Steve exhaled and closed his eyes. "Buck -- "

"Promise me," Bucky wavered and took a second, glancing away. Finally, he took a shaky breath. "I'm not waiting here like some d*** war widow. You're coming back."

"Promise," Steve said softly, hesitantly touching his wrist. Bucky swallowed and held his hand in turn.

Steve leaned down and kissed him gently, as if to assure him it really would be all right. Bucky kissed back, desperate to keep him with him as long as he could, the feel of him against his lips.

"Okay," he muttered as they pulled away. He stared at the floor instead of Steve. "I love you."

"When I get back, Buck," Steve said quietly, tilting his head up. "When I get back, will you... marry me?"

Bucky stared at him, wide-eyed. "Steve..."

"If - if it's a no, then -- "

"Yes," Bucky interrupted, smiling briefly. He would've been happier if Steve wasn't leaving right then. "Don't leave me waiting, okay?"

Steve smiled his fake confident smile that was more to put everyone else at ease than himself. Bucky saw through it instantly. "I won't. I love you too," he said before smiling again, then walking out the door.

All Bucky could do was wait.

So he waited a month, then four, then eleven, and very quickly time was passing him by. Three years, then five, and nine.

Bucky stared up at the ceiling, numb. He'd long figured that Steve was probably dead without so much as a warning. He still hadn't accepted it. He draped his arm over his eyes and swallowed, trying not to picture the image of Steve dying in a ditch, Steve left in an explosion, Steve taking a bullet.

Two days later, there was a knock on the door. Steve stood there with a weight on his shoulders Bucky had never seen before.

He stared at the brunet in silence for a moment, before finally saying, "Am I late?"

Bucky hugged him as tight as he could, pulling him against him. Steve hugged back, and kissed his forehead. Bucky began sobbing into his shoulder, clutching him like a lifeline.

"Shh, sweetheart," Steve spoke, holding him close.

"Nine years, Steve," Bucky choked, pulling back. He looked at him and his eyes welled up again. He was alive. "I thought you'd died, and -- "

"I'm fine," Steve hushed. Bucky closed his eyes and didn't say anything more, too exhausted to speak. Steve led him to the couch and Bucky demanded to hear the story once he'd calmed down.

Steve told a lighter version - some of the places he went, the work he'd done, the others he fought alongside.

He didn't mention the new scars that littered his body, or the way that all he could see was terrifying images of what he'd witnessed.

That was a story for another day.

They got married, like Steve'd promised, and together, they were happy.

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"I missed you."

////

"I missed you," he said, lifting the brunet into the air.

"I missed you too." And they kissed, and they didn't stop, even when the rain began to pour down.

Bucky glanced over at Steve. "Is that what couples do?" He snorted and changed positions. "We're falling behind, Stevie."

"Mhmm." Steve kept an arm wrapped around him as they continued the movie. The mood changed - the flirting was more forward, and not too long afterward, they were reaching The Scene.

The Scene that was in every romance movie that Steve hated with a passion, because the second-hand embarrassment was strong.

The bedroom scene.

He shifted and stole a glance at Bucky, who was beginning to scroll through his phone. Steve crossed his arms and coughed, then scratched the back of his neck and turned away. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"You good, doll?"

"What? Yes, yes," Steve replied quickly, shuffling. Bucky gave him an amused look.

"It's The Scene."

"Yeah?" Steve crossed his arms. "Didn't even notice," he said in a casual voice.

Bucky leaned closer and raised both eyebrows. "Really."

"You know I don't like scenes like this," Steve finally broke, sputtering the words out as he yanked a pillow to his chest. Bucky wordlessly clicked out of the movie and began scrolling to find a new one. Steve slowly relaxed, then looked at him, wide-eyed.

"You said you hated scenes like that, and I forgot this movie had one," he commented as he settled on another movie, one Steve knew almost by heart. He pulled the blond closer and Steve snuggled in, grateful.

"Thank you, love," he hummed as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Bucky smiled at him.

"Of course, Stevie."

////

"Do you trust me?"

////

Bucky skidded to a halt on the edge of the roof and Steve stopped next to him, looking horrified.

"Buck, we don't have any more exits," he said worriedly.

"No, really?" Bucky's sarcasm reflected his attitude towards this whole thing. Sighing, he cracked his neck and stepped onto the edge, then glanced at Steve. "Give me your hand."

Steve eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Do you trust me?" Bucky raised an eyebrow. Steve held his breath before taking his hand. Bucky nodded, closed his eyes, and they jumped off in an arc, reaching for the next building.

They were a couple feet short. "S***!" Steve yelled. Bucky pulled him close, tucked his body into a ball, and used his back as a shield as they crashed through the window.

Steve rolled to a halt against a desk, disoriented. "Bucky?" he breathed, staggering to his feet. Bucky was grunting as he slowly pushed himself up. Glass shards were in his back, and he hardly felt up to the task of moving. "Stay put, I'll be right back," Steve said as he started looking for a better escape route.

Bucky sat up, breathing lightly, swearing every second breath. "That was a thrill and a half," he panted, forcing himself to his feet. "What's the next move?"

"Clearly, never trusting you with an escape route again."

Bucky looked offended for a second, before reconsidering and nodding in agreement. "Yeah, good call." Steve gave him a look before setting off, darting around corners and ducking when needed.

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, wincing. Sure enough, he heard Steve yelling, and he started moving again, gritting his teeth and breaking into a run. "Steve, what the hell..," He slid around the corner, panting. "Did you do?"

There was a faint crash of glass and Bucky slowed, paling. "S***," he panted and resumed pace. He made it all the way down to the bottom floor and outside with no sign of Steve anywhere.

There was a body beneath a window, but when Bucky rolled it over, it wasn't Steve.

A car pulled up beside him and Steve poked his head out of the sunroof. "Come on!"

Bucky didn't have to be told twice. He squeezed inside and crawled to the back, breathing hard. Running with shards of glass buried in your back was always a bad thing.

Steve drove away and Bucky promptly passed out in the backseat. Muttering under his breath, Steve tried to find a safe place. They left New York, trying to find a place where they could live and be happy.

It didn't matter where, but as long as Bucky was safe, Steve didn't care.

////

"Don't you look at me like that."

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"Don't you look at me like that," Bucky warned, crouching down. The puppy stared at him, whining softly. It jumped up and nuzzled his hand, and Bucky froze, staring at it. "I can't take you with me," he sighed and sat in the dirt next to the starved pup. He had been walking downtown and found a stray puppy amidst the garbage of the city.

Bucky scruffed its head and stood, wanting nothing more than to adopt it. He sighed and started walking away, and it bounded after him, tripping over its feet.

Its cuteness was going to give Bucky a heart attack.

He stopped again, looking conflicted. Steve liked dogs, right? Maybe what they needed was a tiny pup.

It was attacking his shoelaces and Bucky's heart melted. He picked the puppy up and carried it all the way home.

"Surprise," he said as he stepped through the door. Steve didn't look up from his book.

"If you're covered in blood again -- " He looked up and cut himself off, eyes widening. "You got a dog?" He walked over.

Bucky grinned. "His name's Shoelace."

"Shoelace?" Steve pet it gently and Shoelace nipped at him playfully. "Tell me you didn't steal him."

"What? No," Bucky defended, scratching under Shoelaces's chin. "He wouldn't let me leave without him. And now he's my son."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Let's go get some pet supplies."

Bucky allowed Shoelace to trot along beside him as he thought. Then he put a hand on Steve's shoulder and looked at him mock-seriously.

"Steven Grant Rogers, will you do me the honour of helping me raise our son together?" He got down on a knee and grinned at him. Steve scoffed, rolled his eyes, and smiled.

"I'd be honoured to," he hummed and Bucky got up again.

"Great, potty training him is on you then."

They had Shoelace for a very long time and loved him very much.

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The last one was cute. Any thoughts?