What the Water Gave Me

Chapter Twenty

In the morning, Bucky hit Steve in the face with a second sea sponge. Steve jolted away, spitting salt water and shouting.

“Do you always have to aim right for my face?!” He yelled.

“Good morning,” Bucky replied, holding his board up coldly. “This is a sponge. Use it.”

“I hate you,” Steve glowered, but he pressed to sponge down to clean the again throbbing wound in his stomach.

“I hate you, too,” Bucky replied and swam away.

“Liar,” Steve growled. When Bucky returned a few minutes later, he had a few dead fish in his hands and he dropped them in front of Steve. Steve looked at him.

“Remember when I gave you dead fish and you puked?” He said. “The exact same thing is gonna happen to me, you know.”

“I’m working on it,” Bucky replied. “There’s no dry wood.”

“Yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Lets just build a fire under the ocean. Great idea.”

“You’re kind of being an ass,” Bucky replied. He looked genuinely hurt. “I’m doing everything I can for you. I’m not even asking for a thank you, I’m just asking for you to cut it out with the snide comments.”

Steve looked at him and didn’t answer. Bucky sucked on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know why you’re being so mean,” he wrote in small letters and Steve set the sponge aside and wrapped his arms around his legs. He looked at the rock underneath him and frowned. But Bucky was waiting for an explanation and Steve talked, if at least to fill the void where he knew he was expected to say something.

“I thought you were dead,” he said quietly. “I thought I’d lost you for a second time.”

“And so you’re being extra mean to make up for lost time,” Bucky wrote and Steve couldn’t help but laugh a little. Bucky smiled at him a bit from behind the board, the first smile he’d seen from him since they talked together on the beach what felt like ages ago.

“I was just…,” Steve struggled to find the words. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I don’t mean to make you feel bad, I just…”

“Just what?” Bucky prodded and Steve hugged himself tighter and shrugged.

“I was in pain, okay?” He said. “It hurt. I was mad at you, too. For dying again and leaving me behind.”

“That’s not a very good excuse,” Bucky wrote. “Especially considering that I’m alive.” Steve choked out a laugh and shrugged.

“It’s all I got,” he said. Bucky set his board down and leaned himself up against the rock Steve was sitting on, just deep enough under the water that both arms were visible. He looked up at him and smiled a little and then Steve’s vision of him was blurred by tears. He sucked in a breath and leaned forward and pressed his cheek to Bucky’s head, scooting as close as he could come, pulling him closer. He kissed his hair and wrapped his arms around him and Bucky came up further out of the water to throw his arm around his neck. Steve felt him nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck but then, he pulled away.

“You confuse me,” he scrawled on his board. “And that hurts. Why would you kiss me? Do you or do you not love me?”

“Why do we have to talk about it?” Steve asked. “Why can’t we just enjoy it?”

“Enjoy what?” Bucky replied. “Clearly you’re enjoying some peace of mind that I don’t have.” Steve looked down. He wasn’t sure what to say to Bucky. Bucky prodded him with the board and Steve looked up to see he had written, “well?” He took it back and then added, “I need a solid answer, Steve.”

“No!” Steve cried. “No, I don’t love you, okay?” Bucky swallowed. He looked like he had been hit. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that face. You can’t ask that question without bracing yourself for an answer you don’t want to hear.” Bucky just nodded, then nodded again faster. He looked away and shrugged and started to pull himself away from Steve. “Bucky,” Steve said.

It’s just better this way, he thought. And it would be better had Steve not had any feelings for him and Steve didn’t have any feelings for him, and then when he had to leave, it would be easier. He would spare himself the pain of loving someone who lived in a completely different world than he did. It was better for them both.

“Then stop,” Bucky wrote and Steve looked up when he heard the marker against the board. “Stop kissing me. Stop asking to sleep next to me. Just stop. Cause you’re making it worse.”

“Alright, fine,” Steve said. “Fine, sure.”

“Thank you,” Bucky wrote and he set his whiteboard on a rock and sunk under the water and disappeared and Steve stood up and smoothed his hair back and let out a shaky breath, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake.