Rogers. (a Stucky fanfiction)

Human.

Steve put a tank top on. Bucky would never admit that he liked Steve in tank tops. Maybe he had liked Steve in tank tops before he could remember. Did Steve's skinny frame hold those up...? He was reading way too much into this. Bucky struggled pulling a hoodie on over some of the bolts in his arm. Steve smiled a bit, helping Bucky.

"Thanks," mumbled Bucky.

Steve nodded and took his jacket from the closet.

Bucky rocked back and forth awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hoods offered protection and privacy, like his mask that he was so familiar with.

"Coffee, right?" Steve said, looking at Bucky.

He nodded in response, suddenly feeling unsocial. Considering it was Steve, this was unusual. Steve opened the apartment door and let Bucky through first. Bucky saluted Steve, giving a halfhearted grin, so he wouldn't worry the older man.

"Are you okay? I know I just asked you..."

"Fine," Bucky replied, harsher than intended. "Sorry." He said the word like a 5 year old whom was scolded for playing in the knife drawer. And in a way, he had been.

"No problem." he smiled at his best friend, walking down the hallway with him.

Steve kept distance from Bucky while they walked, not wanting to trigger anything after that brief slip that morning.

Bucky, however, knew that Steve couldn't see in his brain, so he didn't know how badly he wanted to be held in his arms. Two men couldn't be as close to each other in public as Bucky wanted to be.

Steve made sure the apartment keys were in his pocket when he opened the door to the building.

At 6:49 AM, early risers were jogging, the baby blue sky was welcoming, and the buzz of a city waking up felt safe. Steve walked slowly to the coffee place near the apartment. He wished to savor every moment he had with his best friend, although they lived together.

Bucky watched Steve watch the street ahead. Pushing a stray strand of brown hair from his face, he smiled to himself. This little kid from Brooklyn whose skin he had to save was protecting him from crossing an almost empty street. To him, that was precious. Even had he not been through everything he had, that would still be precious.

With this little spark of happiness as fuel, Bucky lifted his human hand. His skin was almost magnetic, reaching toward Steve. Bucky grasped Steve's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. Bucky held on like his life depended on it, and it did. Steve looked at his right hand man with glistening blue eyes.

"Is this okay?"

"Never better, Buck."