A Little More Than Friends

Bucky walked up the steps to Steve's apartment slowly, listening to the faint strains of music drifting out the open window. Billie Holiday, as always. He smiled and unlocked the door with the key under the brick by the stairs, pushing it open slowly so the hinges wouldn't creak.

Steve sat at his little table by the window, sketching in his almost-full notebook. He looked up when he heard Bucky's footsteps and smiled broadly, setting the notebook and pen aside. "Hey, Buck."

"Steve." Bucky grinned and walked over the table to see what he'd been drawing. Steve flipped it shut before he could get more than a glimpse though.

"Coffee?" Steve asked, taking the notebook with him to the cramped kitchen and shoving it into a drawer.

"Always." Bucky followed Steve and leaned against the counter while he started boiling water.

"How was the trip?"

"It was good. Mom and Dad are enjoying the farm. You would've liked it there."

"You know I don't like going places I'm not invited." Steve shrugged.

"You're family, Steve." Bucky laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're always invited."

"Still. Wouldn't feel right to just show up."

"You're coming next time. End of story."

Steve gave him a little grin. "Gonna throw me over your shoulder and carry me to the car?"

"I just might."

"I might not mind."

"That so?" Bucky realized his hand had been on Steve's shoulder for too long now, but Steve hadn't moved away, so he didn't either.

Steve pressed a hand against the counter edge, leaning a bit closer to Bucky and making his heart skip forward. "You like getting out of the city."

"Brooklyn is so warm in the summer. I can hardly breathe by July."

"It is that. Muggy too." Their fingers brushed. "Too hot to do anything but lie in bed and wait for a breeze." The sharp whistle of the kettle made Bucky jump. Steve smiled and stepped away to finish making the coffee.

The bitter earthy scent of the coffee rose in a cloud and Bucky breathed it in as Steve walked past and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Bucky watched the door for a few moments, making sure Steve wasn't going to reappear too quickly. Then he bent and quietly pulled open the drawer Steve had shoved the notebook into. He flipped it open to that day's page, still marked with the pen, and held it up to the light.

A half-finished sketch of Bucky was carefully drawn in the faintest of lines. Steve had pictured him leaning back in a chair, face turned a bit away as he stared out the window. Bucky smiled, imagining Steve's hands delicately etching out the drawing in the afternoon light.

"Snoop." Steve snapped, pulling the notebook from Bucky's hands.

"Hey, I like it. Don't be like that."

"It's private."

"I mean, it's me."

"It's not finished."

"It's really good."

"Thanks." Steve met his eyes finally and Bucky realized he was actually blushing. "You really liked it?"

"Swear."

Steve relaxed and shook his head, laying the notebook on the counter. "It was that day last summer when the fire hydrants broke. The streets were full of water and the kids were playing and we just sat here and watched them until it got dark."

"That was a good day," Bucky laughed. "Even though I had to wade through the puddles to get home."

"You could've stayed."

"Maybe I should've."

"Didn't have an extra bed, though."

"Could've slept on the couch." Bucky glanced at the couch. It was barely long enough for two people to sit on, let alone someone his height to lie down and sleep.

"Naw. But the bed's big enough for two."

Bucky turned to Steve sharply. The smaller man looked up at him with a light in his eyes Bucky hadn't seen before. "I suppose it is." He realized how close Steve was standing, only a few inches separated them now. He reached out slowly and hooked a finger through one of Steve's belt loops, pulling him closer so their hips and thighs pressed against each other.

Steve tilted his head back and searched Bucky's face. Heart racing, Bucky thought he might've misread the moment and made a mistake. Then Steve's hand found his waist, and his other hand slid up to Bucky's collar. He pulled Bucky forward until their lips met. Bucky practically forgot how to breathe as Steve's fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt and brushed against his back.

His heart pounded against his rips like a freight train. Hecould smell Steve's soap as he pushed his fingers into his hair. When they did pull apart at last, Bucky stared down at Steve, frozen until they both burst into laughter.

Steve leaned his forehead against Bucky's chest, sighing deeply. "I always wondered what that would feel like."

"And?" Bucky asked, still holding Steve against him.

Steve responded with another kiss, light and quick this time before he stepped back and poured two mugs of coffee for them. They sat at the window, drinking their coffee and talking like nothing had changed, except now they sat a bit closer, knees just touching under the table. And when Bucky reached out a hand, Steve took it without hesitation, twining their fingers loosely together in the light of the sunbeam that fell across the room.