Stucky

A Back Alley: Bucky Gets Exasperated

 Brooklyn, 1940s. 

       Pre-serum Steve had a knack for finding trouble and a lack of ability to deal with it. This particular day, he and Bucky were  roaming the city, looking for something to entertain themselves. Steve was waiting for the results of his latest application to yet another branch of the military, desperately doing anything he could to get himself in.  Bucky had already been drafted, but he hadn't told Steve yet. He was trying to figure out a way to talk to him, but every time he worked up his courage or got an opportunity to talk to Steve, something always came in the way. Last time he had lost his chance over cotton candy, of all things. He left for Europe in 2 months, stationed with the Howling Commandos. 

    Bucky's thoughts were interrupted when he looked up and didn't see Steve. He knew he could be a bit overprotective at times, but considering how small and frail Steve was, he felt that he was justified in a little nurturing every now and then. Frantically, he began running around the alleyways yelling for Steve. 10 minutes later, he found him valiantly struggling against a bully three times his size. "Take that!" Steve screeched as he threw a punch, which the other man deflected easily, and proceeded to lay Steve out on the ground. This offense proved too much for Bucky, who used the advantage of surprise to tackle the man around his knees from behind. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He yelled in frustration.  

     "Steve, are you alright?" Bucky sighed in exasperation. " You've got to stop getting into these things. I'm not always gonna be around to save your tiny little ass, okay?" He was so close to telling Steve, but then the other man groaned and started to get up. Steve took the opportunity to kick him in the gut and he fell back down again. Bucky didn't comment on the fact that the man was mostly unconscious still anyway. 'Let Steve have his moment'. He thought to himself. His opportunity was gone though, as Steve was still fired up from his fight and his "victory". "Come on, Buck, let's have some fun tonight." "What, that wasn't enough excitement for one day for you?" "Heck no. Let's go." Steve trotted off in the opposite direction in search of more scum to fight with, and Bucky felt he had to follow. 'What will Steve do when I'm gone?' He agonized to himself.

     "Steve, come on, I'm getting tired! Let's go home now!" Bucky yelled in the general direction Steve had disappeared in, and his head popped out from the right a moment later. "What, you gettin' sleepy?" Steve smirked, and strutted over to Buck. He enjoyed it when he got to be better at something or last longer than Bucky did, as it was a rare and special day when this happened.  "Let's go back to the apartment and have some shots. My treat tonight." Steve readily agreed to this, as drinks with Buck were guaranteed to be a good time, however bad it was in the morning. 

    When they reached the front door, Steve reached under the doormat for his spare key and unlocked the door, swinging it wide. They both stepped over the threshold at the same time. Bucky reached the fridge first and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, taking a swig straight from the bottle, then holding it out to Steve. He took a sip and then went for the glasses, getting the biggest mugs they had. He wanted to forget his worries about the military, the war, the future, everything. Bucky was more than happy to oblige, as he had worries of his own to drown away with the alcohol.

   A few hours later, Bucky found himself on the floor with Steve, staring at the ceiling and hiccuping while talking about the meaning of life (As much as they could process in their drunken state, anyway). Steve jumped on top of Bucky and began to wrestle him, which Bucky reciprocated quickly, although not going full out. Even drunk Buck had enough sense not to hurt Steve, ever. Steve's leg got a little too high while attempting to get out of a chokehold, and he knocked a flurry of papers to the ground. Quickly rising to pick them up, Steve leafed through the papers. He stumbled on one that bore the seal of the U.S. Military branch, which he knew very well by now. It looked promising, and so Steve glanced it over. Curiosity turned into shock as he read it once, twice, three times. It was a draft form for James Buchanan Barnes, commissioning him over to Europe in April, two months away.

    Steve sobered up quickly, and stared at Bucky incredulously. "How could you keep this from me? I thought we were best friends!" Steve began to shake with repressed sobs. Bucky instantly regained his faculties, and began to comfort him. "No, no, Steve, it's not like that at all. We ARE best friends. I just couldn't find the right time to tell you. I tried to today, but you were gone before I could talk to you. I wanted you to find out, just not from an impersonal piece of crap draft order. Trust me, Steve, please. When have I ever lied to you?"  A single tear slipped down Steve's cheek.