Stucky Things

You Are In Love

One look, dark room, Meant just for you, Time moved too fast, You play it back,

It was a dark night and Steve, just days recovered from this month's round of flu, was curled up on the couch. Then, the door opened, and a drunken Bucky stumbled in, lipstick marks on his cheek and his army uniform just as disheveled as his dark hair. Steve glanced up, and their eyes connected.
Written in them were a million emotions, the most prominent of which were fear and... love.
They stayed up talking that night, but too soon, too fast, morning came and Bucky left. Steve never told him about his own enlistment.
When Steve woke up later that day, the afternoon sun lazily warming the air outside, he played back their conversation, and if a few tears slipped out that was okay.
He kept that moment for as long as he could, but what always stood out was that look in Bucky's eyes, a look just for his Stevie.

Buttons on a coat, Lighthearted joke, No proof, not much, But you saw enough,

The button's on Bucky's blue coat gleamed in light.
"Remember the time I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?" Bucky asked, trying to conceal his nervousness. Steve felt his heart warm at his attempt to ease the tension that had been growing between the two.
"Yeah, and I threw up?"
"This isn't payback, is it?" And there was that look again, the look Steve had gotten before Bucky was shipped off to a war that would take so much but give so little.
Steve grinned. "Now why would I do that?"
And there was no proof, not much of anything to go on, but Steve thought that if he kissed Bucky then and there, the other wouldn't have minded in the slightest.
And Steve would have, if only the others weren't there.
Another time, Steve promised himself.

Small talk, he drives, Coffee at midnight, The light reflects, The chain on your neck,

Before the train, there was a mission a few miles South of base, and the Howling Commandos were told to leave at midnight to raid a HYDRA storage facility. Bucky drove them, Steve by his side, the both of them talking over canisters of the awful sludge the Army called "coffee".
The light reflected off of Bucky's tags, and Steve watched in a love-struck wonder as Bucky threw his head back and laughed at something Steve had said.
The rest of the team, sitting in the back, looked at the two and made bets as to when the two of them would see sense and finally get together.
Most of them wouldn't live to see the day they did.

He says look up, And your shoulders brush, No proof, one touch, You felt enough

It was back before the war, and the Brooklyn air was muggy and warm.
It was the Fourth of July, and Steve had just turned seventeen. They sat on the balcony of Steve's tiny apartment, looking towards where the fireworks were to go off. Any moment now...
Steve began to cough, the moist air screwing with his asthmatic lungs, and the first firework shot into the air.
"Stevie," Bucky said, rubbing circles on Steve's back. "Look up."
He did just as it exploded into the air, tears forming in his eyes. Bucky's shoulder brushed his, and Steve felt the nerves in his arm jump and shiver with an almost electric force.
There was nothing for Steve to go off of except the books he'd read, but somehow he figured out he was in love with his best friend.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, You can feel it on the way home, way home, You can see it with the lights out, lights out, You are in love, true love, You are in love

Steve hears it in the deafening silence as Bucky's about to fall, the train nothing but vibrations in Steve's heaving chest, where his heart beats faster than the engines powering the god damned vehicle.
He hears it echo in his head on the way back to camp, an empty space in both the truck and Steve's chest. He feels that emptiness more than he's ever felt anything, save... no. Thinking of it now would cause nothing but more pain.
When he blows out the candle by his bed that night, the light making his tent seem happier than it should with Bucky gone, he sees the words written behind his eyes, bright, screaming, demanding to be felt.
I love you, he wants to scream. I love you, I love you, I love you...
But you are gone, and now I can never tell you.