Chapter Text
There was someone in his apartment.
That thought jolted James awake, and he threw himself out of bed before he was even aware of what was happening. He snatched up a pistol from his nightstand’s top drawer and stumbled out of the room.
His whole chest and throat were constricting like there was a rope continuously tightening around him. Did Hydra somehow return? Was this the end of his hard-fought freedom? He continued down the hallway slowly until he whipped around the corner into the living room, getting ready to shoot.
“Hey, Buck— oh.” Steve turned around with a pan of eggs in his left hand and a spatula in the other. He paused when he saw the pistol, locked and loaded, taking perfect aim at his head.
Recognition flickered in Bucky’s eyes, and he dropped the gun to his side with a shuddering sigh. He rubbed his eyes, “Sorry. I forgot you were here.”
Steve quickly put the pan back on the stove behind him and winced, “Sorry, Buck, I was just trying to make breakfast. Want some?” he asked hesitantly. When James didn’t respond, he frowned, “Hey, are you okay–”
“I don’t eat breakfast,” James cut him off, swaying slightly, his mind still whirling.
“Oh,” he said again, glancing back at the eggs, “I’ll eat it then. Do you want coffee?”
James nodded, “Please.” After watching Steve scratch the back of his neck in confusion in the middle of the kitchen, he told him, “The coffee grounds are in the cabinet by the fridge.”
“‘Course,” he got it out of the cabinet, as well as a mug, and began making the coffee, “By the way, you don’t have any food in the fridge.”
Tiredly, James sat on a stool by the counter and rested his face in his hands, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat, “I haven’t been here much. I’ve been… staying at the tower more lately.”
Steve nodded, “The new Avengers Tower,” he said, amusement bleeding through his words, but he had a wistful look in his eyes as he plated the eggs he had made and fumbled around the drawers to find a fork.
Something brushed against James’ leg, and he looked under the ledge of the counter and saw Alpine leaning against his leg. “Hey girl,” he scratched her head with his prosthetic, and she rubbed against it.
She began to vibrate, purring loudly, and Steve turned around, a look of confusion on his face. “Is there a cat in here?” James scooped up Alpine and presented her fluffy greatness to Steve, whose eyes lit up, “You got a cat!”
“Yup, a few months ago. Her name’s Alpine.” He set her down on the counter, and she went over to Steve on the other side, sniffing the air around him. “I found her in the dumpster.”
Steve chuckled and let her sniff his hand, “You always wanted a cat.” He met James’s eyes, and James felt his heart do something weird, “I’m glad you finally got one.”
Alpine seemed to have lost interest in Steve fairly quickly before wandering back to James and plopping over onto her side. She didn’t like belly rubs, but she sure did act like she loved them.
He paused to pour the coffee into the mug, and he handed it to James, the tips of their fingers brushing together as James accepted it. Steve took his seat on one stool away from him, and he began to eat like a man possessed as James sipped his coffee. It was made the same way he always had it in the 30s– bitter as shit.
“How’d you sleep?” James asked.
“Not well.”
James felt just as tired as Steve seemed.“Same.”
His night was plagued with uncertainty, and he had this notion that if he fell asleep, Steve would leave again. He’d thought about going back into the living room to see if Steve was still passed out on the couch, but he never did. At least he eventually fell asleep, if only for a few hours.
Silence used to not be awkward between James and Steve, but now that’s all James felt. How long would this tension go on? If it lasted any more than a week, he may just have to invite Sam over to create some sort of nervously talkative barrier.
Unsurprisingly, Steve had already finished his plate, and he stood up to wash it off. “I’m thinking about going on a run, you want in?”
“You’ve been missing for years. The moment you step outside, you’ll be on the cover of the Times,” James pointed out. “Also, you need more clothes before you go off sweating through your only pair of jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Should we go shopping?”
James did need more food. Two supersoldiers under one roof would eat through gallons of food, let alone a sparse fridge. “Sure, you should put a cap on, though.”
»»————- ★ ————-««
Bucky and Steve didn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean it was quiet. The birds were squawking loudly, and it seemed like every other car was laying on the horn like the goddamn trumpets of the rapture. The brisk fall air made Steve glad he accepted Buck’s offer for one of his older jackets. It was a little small, but he had lost some body mass since going back in time, so it wasn’t too snug.
Steve could say he genuinely missed how hectic New York was in the 21st Century. Living in the suburbs with Peggy was too quiet; it felt almost suffocating, but here? There was something comforting about the chaos of it all. He never thought he would miss seeing crazy people yell at cars. Steve was taking in the sights of the tall buildings when a large screen mounted on the side of one of them showed a bright yellow ad that caught his eye. Rogers: The Musical, it read.
“Is that musical about me?” Steve put a hand out to stop Bucky as he pointed to the ad across the street.
Bucky snorted, side-stepping closer to Steve so that the people around them could get by, “Yeah. It’s shit though, Sam’ll have to take you,” he ushered Steve to start walking again, and he felt a few sprinkles land on his cap, “I don’t want to see it again.”
“That bad?” Steve chuckled, and he bumped Bucky’s shoulder playfully.
A smile broke across Buck’s face, and they paused, waiting for the crosswalk sign to turn green. “Worse.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they crossed the road, his breath creating a white plume in front of him. “It was boring, and I think I fell asleep within the first 30 minutes.”
“Maybe I don’t want to see it.”
“You should, I think you’ll get a kick out of it.”
He probably would. Steve watched the side of Bucky’s face as they continued down the sidewalk, trying to think of something else to say to make him smile, but nothing came to mind.
They eventually made it to some kind of thrift store that smelled like an attic and old clothes. There was some generic pop song that Steve hadn’t heard before (not that he’s heard much), and they took a long lap around the store, plucking random shirts that would probably fit.
“I don’t think I want used underwear,” Steve muttered as they started looking at the jeans section.
“Picky.” Bucky leaned forward to check the size of a light pair of jeans, “I think they sell some unused shit in the front. Can you pick up a pack of cigarettes, too? And a lighter? I don’t have mine.”
Steve stopped in his tracks to throw a confused look over his shoulder, “You still smoke?” Now that he thought about it, he wanted a smoke too.
“Can’t get cancer and I like the nicotine rush.”
“Fair.”
As Steve was picking stuff up from the front, James finally decided to call Sam, who had been texting him all morning, although (somewhat guiltily) James hadn't been responding.
On the first ring, Sam picked up the phone, “What the hell, man? I’ve been spamming you all morning! How is Steve? Are you two still not talking?”
James had totally forgotten that Sam was Steve’s best friend too, and he felt a little bit more guilty about not responding, “Sorry, I’ve.. Not been in a good mood.” Sam sighed, but it wasn’t one of his serious sighs; instead, it was just a slightly annoyed one. James continued, “Steve’s—” he glanced at the front where Steve was getting some cigs, “—doing fine, we both slept like shit. We talked last night, but it’s still a little strange.”
“I can’t believe he’s back,” Sam mused, “I mean, after all this time? God.”
“You and me both.”
Sam was silent for a moment before he suddenly piped up, “I want to see you two, do you want to meet up?”
James turned back to the jean rack and nodded before remembering that he couldn't see him, “Yeah, Steve and I need to finish buying some clothes, but we’re right by the cafe we always meet at.”
“Coffee sounds like a good idea, and bagels.” There was a pause, “Damn, I’m just hungry.”
James snorted. “I’ll see you there.”
“You too.”
James hung up, and Steve returned with a basket that contained what James had asked for. He took a peek into the basket, “Thanks.”
“Was that Sam?” Steve pointed to James’s phone.
He nodded, “We’re meeting him at the coffee shop a few buildings down. We’ll need to hold off on going to the grocery store.”
Steve seemed happy about that and made a comment about how he was still hungry, and James agreed. After they found a few pairs of blue jeans and 1 pair of khakis, they went to the front of the store to get checked out by a very unenthusiastic old man. Steve tried to angle his head in a way that kind of obscured his face, but that also didn’t look too suspicious. Granted, he wasn't really succeeding in the non—suspicious part. James felt as though they were about to rob this poor man blind.
Wordlessly, the man scanned the items and stared at them until they left, and the moment they stepped outside, Steve burst into a fit of laughter. “Gooddamn, what was his deal?”
“Language,” James said in reflex, “If I were that old and working in retail, I wouldn’t talk either,” he sympathized as he grabbed Steve’s arm to slow him down before he picked up the pack of cigarettes and the royal blue lighter Steve bought.
“Do you think he knew who we were?” he asked as he leaned against the cold bricks of a bookshop.
“You? Probably not. Me?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before inhaling the smoke sharply. He breathed it out through his nose and tossed the lighter and pack of smokes back in the bag, “Probably. That's what happens when you run for Congress.”
Steve seemed dubious about that, “You’re a congressman?”
“I was. It was a shitshow through and through. It felt like shouting into a void.” He took another drag as Steve watched him, “I quit after I joined the team.”
“Huh,” Steve said distantly, the realization that he had missed a lot finally hit him. It had been building since he got back, but just hearing about only some recent events from Bucky’s life made the sinking feeling in his stomach only grow.
As he was spiraling, he felt a nudge, and Bucky was offering his half-smoked cigarette. Steve must have been more obviously distraught than he thought he was. Steve took it gently and pressed the filter to his lips, breathing in heavily as the smoke warmed him from the inside out. It reminded him of last night, of how they kissed. Neither of them had mentioned it since it happened, and Steve wondered how long they would go without talking about it.
He never thought that kissing someone would literally keep him awake at night, but all pre-conceived notions get thrown in the trash when it comes to Buck.
“I can’t believe that doctors used to prescribe cigarettes for your asthma,” Bucky said suddenly
Steve laughed and then started coughing, the smoke cloying in his throat. He handed back the cigarette as he regained his composure, “Don’t remind me. I lost count of how many times I almost died from them.” He shook his head incredulously.
“Look at how far you’ve come,” Buck said with a slight smile, their eyes locking as he put the cigarette that was just in Steve’s mouth to his lips. Steve followed the movement with his eyes with little shame, but then he heard someone shout Bucky’s name.
They both turned to where the voice was coming from, and Sam was standing all the way down at the end of the sidewalk in front of what Steve assumed was the cafe they were supposed to meet up at.
Sam waved, and the two men waved back before making their way towards him. As soon as Steve reached him, he went in for a hug, and Sam squeezed him back. Sam’s smile faded when he saw Bucky, and he crossed his arms. "Smoking again?"
“I can’t die from it—”
“That’s not the point, an addiction is still bad for you whether or not—”
Steve nudged a crunchy orange leaf on the ground as they continued to bicker, and he wondered how many times they’ve had this conversation. Eventually, Bucky just rolled his eyes, stomped out the cigarette butt before picking it up and throwing it in the trash right outside the cafe.
“Can we go inside?” Steve asked.
“Yeah.” Sam pushed open the glass door, and warm air met them as they walked inside.
It was a dim, quaint cafe, with a group of girls giggling in one corner and a man working on his laptop while a few baristas chatted. It smelled wonderful, and it made Steve’s stomach growl despite the eggs he had had earlier.
“I’ll order. What do you two want?” Bucky asked as he pulled his wallet.
Sam requested a cold brew and an everything bagel, and Steve asked for a croissant sandwich. As Bucky was ordering, Sam and Steve sat on opposite sides of the booth with Sam leaning forward, staring at him intensely.
“So,” he began ominously, “I have a few questions.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you staying?”
Steve didn’t even have to think, “Yes.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “Really?”
He thought back on the long and tiring conversation he and Bucky had had, “Things are different. I realize that now.”
Sam didn’t push, “Are you happy? To be back?”
Steve nodded slightly and glanced towards Bucky, who was waiting for their order at the counter, “Yeah.”
Sam followed his gaze and leaned back in his seat, “You two talking now?”
“More or less. Things are, uh, less tense,” Sam’s eyes were scanning Steve’s face intently for a long moment. “What?”
“Is he still upset? He was pissed as hell last night.”
He was, Jesus. When Steve arrived, Bucky’s face was completely emotionless, and the only thing that showed how he was feeling was the single tear track. His silence didn’t last long, and he began shouting irately. Steve thought he was about to get the shit beaten out of him. Steve hadn’t seen Bucky that emotional since before the fall. He felt like he was going to vomit as Buck just completely broke down, and Steve almost wished he had never returned. He had never been capable of hurting Bucky like that, but it seemed more likely than not that he is now.
“We talked it all out. Don’t think he wants to punch me as much.”
“He missed you,” Sam leveled with him. “A lot. I did too, Steve, but there was a moment when I didn’t think Bucky would make it.”
That made his stomach sink. Thousands of scenarios played through his mind. “How bad was it?” he asked hesitantly.
“It was...” he seemed to struggle to find the words, but he ultimately said, “Just ask him about it. It’s not my place.”
Steve wanted desperately to push, but he didn’t.
Eventually, Sam got a curious look on his face before asking, “What did Peggy say about you leaving her?” his face turned grim, and as an afterthought, he continued. “You didn’t have children, right?”
“No!” Steve reassured him a little more forcefully than he meant to. When Bucky looked back at the two, Steve then sighed quietly, “No.” he reiterated, “I think Peggy knew it was coming for some time. I could never really hide anything from her.” He smiled slightly. A part of him would always love her; as long as his yearning for what was lost was still alive, he thought he always would.
“I was wondering about that too,” Bucky suddenly stood at the table with their order, making Sam jump. Bucky looked at him skeptically before placing their food down.
“Jesus, make a noise next time,” Sam admonished, lacking any actual real irritation as Bucky sat right beside Steve, stretching out one arm on the back of the booth, somewhat behind Steve.
“After I realized there was something wrong in this timeline, Peggy and I talked about me leaving for a few weeks before I actually did,” Steve said, answering Sam’s question. “One morning, over breakfast, she just asked if it was time for me to go.” He grabbed one of the sacks of food and took a peek into it to make sure it was his. “And I suppose it was.” It was strange to talk about it. For so long, he was so sure that that was how his story would end, with Peggy by his side. But he realizes now that he was just fooling himself.
As Bucky drank his bitter coffee, Sam turned his attention towards him, “You okay, man? You look rough.” Then to Steve, “You both do, actually. Did either of you sleep?”
“Gee, thanks,” Bucky muttered, and Steve bumped him with his shoulder softly. He put the coffee down and sighed, “We didn’t sleep well.”
Sam nodded sagely, “You’re more grumpy than usual.”
“You know who is grumpy? Alpine.” With that god-awful segue, Bucky whipped out his phone and showed Sam a picture of the cat.
“Man, you talk about her more than Sarah talks about her boys.” He took the phone anyway and squinted at the screen, “She looks fatter.”
Bucky snatched the phone away, “Don’t call her fat!”
“I didn’t say she was ‘fat’, I just said she was ‘fatter'. Y’know, rounder.”
“Semantics,” Steve said.
Sam leveled him with a look, “I can’t tell if you’re on my side or not.”
“I’m neutral,” Steve told him.
Bucky barked out a laugh, “You’re never neutral.”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Bucky didn’t look like he believed him, which was fair, because for most of Steve’s life, he was anything but impartial. He couldn’t even be neutral if it meant he would get his ass kicked in some dingy alleyway.
“I’m serious!” Steve exclaimed when his friends raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I was doing while I was back in the ‘40s?”
“Getting into fights?” Sam offered.
“Well-” he stumbled around with his words, “No one would fight me if they knew who I was. But either way, Peggy would give me this look if I got into a fight, so I stopped doing that to keep the peace,” he said sheepishly.
Sam chuckled, “I bet she kept you on a short leash.”
Steve shrugged, smiling fondly, “Occasionally, yeah. But I wasn’t absolutely off the rails either; I spent most of my time painting and teaching art classes.”
That caught Bucky’s attention. “You held art lessons?” When Steve nodded, Bucky’s face lit up, “Where?”
“It was across from our old high school, next to the diner.”
Sam made an “ooo” sound as Bucky asked, “How many people?”
“Eh, about 60 people over the span of three years, I think?” Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he glanced out the window. “Being America’s Golden Boy helped the publicity.” He turned his attention back to Sam and asked, “How’s being America’s New Golden Boy?”
“Shades of bronze, like the color of shit,” Sam took another large bite, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That bad?”
“Not as bad as when my address got leaked, and I had to hole up in Bucky’s apartment until I found a new place to live.”
“I never want to be your roommate again,” Bucky told him.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Steve snorted, “What happened?”
Sam said, “A fistfight,” as Bucky said just a tad bit vehemently, “He kicked Alpine.”
Steve’s eyes widened, and Sam stepped in to defend himself, “On accident! You make me sound like I’m an animal abuser!” Sam’s voice rose an octave or two. He then turned to Steve, “She came out of nowhere!” Then Sam and Bucky squinted at each other before Sam sighed and reiterated, "We realized that our friendship would not survive if we lived together.”
“So no sleepover?” Steve
“No,” Bucky and Sam said in unison.
“Noted,”
Bucky was eyeing Sam’s half-eaten bagel, and Sam must’ve seen it too because before Buck could ask anything of him, Sam glared at him and said, “No, man. Get your own damn food.”
Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow, “You can have the rest of my sandwich.”
Bucky considered it for a moment, “No, you need food.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying I’m fat?” Sam tutted.
Bucky gave him a deadpan look, “Yes, Sam, I am.” Then his face gave way to an incredulous look, “No! Steve’s a supersoldier! He needs to eat more! I’ll just go buy something.”
He shoved himself out of the booth and went to the front and pointed at a few things on display. Bucky may or may not have pointed to at least 4 things.
When he returned with his food, Sam examined it and exclaimed, “Jesus Christ, Bucky, have you even eaten anything today?”
Bucky pulled the muffin out of the little package, and Steve could see him weighing his options in his eyes, “I don’t know if I should tell you that.”
Steve chuckled and leaned back in his seat, smiling. He had missed them both so damn much.