Stucky oneshots ♾

What, you didn't see that coming?

AU (kinda)

Preserum then a bit post serum.

This isn't at all relevant but I'm researching things for art class and I saw that this one painter is Romanian, and my mind just went 'SEBASTIAN!' Anyway I'm obsessed.

I'm sorta sorry for spamming but it doesn't hurt anyone and I'm addicted to this so yeah I'm actually not sorry lol. I strive to be the oneshot book with heaps of chapters that you can just get addicted to and not worry about running out of content.

Cheers were all around. Celebration could be heard from the streets. The bar was noisy and drunk people were on the verge of singing the national anthem. Morita stood up, shushing everyone, and made a toast.

'To the Howling Commandos! To winning the war! To living a long and happy life.'

Everyone clapped as he sat down, unsteady on his feet after his 3rd drink. Bucky stood up and put his free hand on Steve's shoulder.

'And if I may offer a second toast. To Steve, the reason I'm here, the reason we are all here. If it wasn't for Steve, we'd be dead. Full stop. Let's hear it for Captain America!'

Everyone banged their fists on the table, in true drunk man fashion, and yelled 'To Captain America!'

Steve had a stupid grin on his face, looking at Bucky in admiration. 'Well, I guess it's my turn to give a toast, then.'

He stood, more steady than everyone else. He raised his glass of beer high.

'To James Buchanan Barnes. You saved my ass so many times, I'm pretty sure I still owe you. Even after rescuing you from a HYDRA base, and then again from falling from a train, the amount of times you've saved me far outweighs the amount of times I saved you. I would be so screwed without you.'

Bucky felt tears prick, and he noticed Dum Dum wiping his eyes. The man cleared his throat before speaking. 'Beautiful. To James!'

Everyone cheered again, and they all went back to playing drinking games and ridding themselves of sobriety. Steve noticed Bucky still holding intelligent conversations (at least at his end) after 4 or 5 drinks, and immediately knew something was wrong. He approached him, dragging him to the front of the bar so they could talk.

'Are you okay? You seem... sober.'

Bucky chuckled, sending him a signature smirk, relaxing Steve. This was the Bucky he knew.

'I don't know, Steve. I didn't want to mention it, but I think Zola did more than torture. He injected me with... things. Trying to make me like you.'

'Did it... do anything?'

'I mean, nothing as obvious as what yours did. But look at me, I'm ripped now. Think this is just from the army? Look at my thighs, they could strangle you.' He joked. 'Also, it takes me a while to get drunk. Not immune like you, though.'

Steve nodded, pulling Bucky in for a hug. They stayed like that for a moment before Bucky pulled away, taking a large swig from his drink.

'What if you drank that nectar stuff from Ancient Greek myths? The gods drink. I bet some of that-'

Bucky continued talking, laughing about the new Steve, comparing him to his sickly little self. Steve laughed with him, noting how that already felt like another life time. Him almost dying every month while Bucky sat by his bedside and prayed for another day seemed almost romantic, nothing like the terrifying reality it was.

Steve was hit with a feeling of finality just as people started leaving the bar, around 6 am the next day. He hadn't realised how long he'd been talking to Bucky. He turned to him, asking the one question his mind.