"We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery," Bucky calls, walking behind Steve. He sighs under his breath, hands in his pockets. His suit is tailored and pressed, hair neatly gelled back. It's a stark difference to Steve, whose ill-fitting suit is at least three sizes too big.
"I know. I'm sorry. I just... kind of wanted to be alone." Steve bit his lip, looking behind him at Bucky as they walk towards Steve's apartment. "Uh... how was it?" Bucky muttered under his breath, knowing that it was a sensitive subject. Steve gave him a wry smile as they stopped in front of the apartment. "It's okay... she's next to Dad," Steve looks down, a wave of loss spreading through him as Bucky stutters awkwardly. "I was gonna ask..."
Steve continues looking down as Bucky's face shows a pitied expression. He wants to help Steve. He just isn't sure how. "I know what you're gonna say, Buck... I— I just..." Steve looks at Bucky with a pained expression. As he looks at his best friend, Bucky takes a deep breath.
"We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids. It'll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash..." Bucky continues to ramble. As they get to the apartment door, Steve furrows his brows as he attempts to find his keys. Clicking his tongue, Bucky effortlessly kicks a brick aside. He bends down to pick up the keys from under it and gives it to Steve, continuing, "Come on..."
"Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own." Steve gives Bucky another wry smile as he steps forward, squeezing his shoulder affectionally, "The thing is, you don't have to."
Bucky smiles softly, "I'm with you to the end of the line, pal."
*****
"Steve, I'm dying," Bucky coughs, lying on the bed. He grips Steve's hand tightly as another coughing fit overwhelms him. Steve looks up at the ceiling as he mutters in exasperation, "James. Buchanan. Barnes. You only have a cough. You're not dying, or even close to dying."
Steve stroked Bucky's back reassuringly. An evident wave of fatigue washes over him as he snuggles under the covers and leans on Steve's chest. He looks up at his lover with his perfect steel blue eyes. Steve smiles softly. Bucky had recently caught a bug and was now clearly overreacting. But Steve could understand why. When they were kids, how many times had he barely scraped through after a mild sickness? How many times had he gotten sick with a simple cold and seen his whole family — and Bucky, by his side? How many times had he gotten an serious asthma attack and nearly died? How many times had he seen Bucky by his bed after he'd gotten seriously ill, nervously picking on his cuticles, a thick blanket of worry covering him whole?
As Steve plays with his hair, Bucky smiles. He sits himself up at sighs against Steve's warm shoulder, already feeling much better. Steve held Bucky's tired hand and rubs his thumb over it, comforting him. He pulls Bucky closer to him, wrapping him tightly in a strangling embrace. "I just wanna die in your arms..." Bucky mutters, clearly tired. Steve's eyes open wide as he runs his fingers over Bucky's face. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."
Bucky rolls his eyes, nodding tiredly. "If you say so," he whispers, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a soft grin. Steve nods seriously, comforted by the feeling of Bucky's head on his shoulder, and holds him even closer, if that were even possible. He carefully arranges Bucky's brunet hair that he loved so much.
Then again, he loved everything about Bucky.
"You know, something, Buck?" Steve asked in a whisper. Bucky shrugged his shoulder and Steve smiled, "You're a sky full of stars. And I'm gonna give you my heart." Bucky chuckled and whispered, "Love you too, Stevie."
Steve wraps his right arm around Bucky's body, holding him. He smiles, exhaling slowly. Their bodies rise and fall in sync, and moments pass in silence. They didn't need to talk all the time. They didn't need to even talk for weeks. But when they would start talking again, it would be as if they never stopped.
The sky outside twinkled with stars dancing on the celestial stage. They dotted the sky like drops of white paint on a black canvas. Steve looked at it through their window, and looked back at his lover, safely in his arms.
"You light up the path, Buck. You get brighter the more it gets dark." Bucky buries his head in the crook of Steve's neck and mutters, "You're good with words, Rogers." Steve laughs softly, stroking Bucky's back. He was definitely feeling better.
Steve slowly lowers his body to the mattress, and Bucky follows suit. Their legs are entangled under the covers, their hands held tightly together. And the both of them found it impossible to let go. "Get well soon, Buck," Steve mutters, drifting off. Bucky grins, sitting up slightly, and points to the heavenly view outside.
"In a sky full of stars, Stevie. In a sky full of stars, I think I saw you."
