Stucky One-shots

Faded

1934

"James Buchanan Barnes! Your mum's gonna hear about this!" Steve shouted, putting both hands in front of his face as Bucky threw yet another snowball in his direction. The snowball made him stagger backwards, but he heaved slowly and stood back straight with great effort. Bucky grinned and kneeled down on the snowy ground. He gathered together some snow, steel blue eyes lit with happiness and joy. His soul was still that of a young boy, his heart sweet and pure, untarnished by the harsh realities of war.

Steve looked at Bucky in exasperation as the latter aimed another snowball at him. "You're going down, Rogers!" Bucky shouted as the snowball pierced through the air like a bullet.

With a yelp, Steve tumbled backwards before falling backwards into the snow. Bucky bit his lips to stifle his laughter as his eyes lit up in amusement. Steve hurriedly shook away the impact of Bucky's straight hit, as always. They had always joked that if there was another war, Bucky should enlist in the army as a sniper. As an infectious smile grew on his lips, Bucky's eyes glittered with playful mischief.

You were the shadow to my light

"Aww, Stevie's angry," Bucky mocked, casting his best friend an affectionate look. Steve rolled his eyes, his minuscule form shaking as the cold biting air wind stung him. The surrounding ground was an endless sea of white, snowflakes falling like crystals dancing in the sky. Bucky smiled as his best friend attempted to push himself up from the snow and failed, falling back down to the ground. Compared to Bucky, who was a head taller than him, he seemed tiny. "You're pathetic, you little punk," Bucky muttered.

At Bucky's words, Steve looked up in fake hurt. He gathered up some snow and threw a tiny snowball in Bucky's direction, which the latter easily dodged. He smirked at Steve, shaking his head in amusement as he replied, "Seriously?"

"Jerk," Steve muttered in reply.

Did you feel us?

"Maybe you should take snowball throwing lessons, Stevie," Bucky sighed, offering a hand to help his best friend up, which Steve gladly took. "Those don't exist, James." Steve glanced at Bucky in mock annoyance, the sarcasm dripping off his voice. Bucky rolled his eyes. He hurriedly gathered up snow and aimed the snowball in Steve's face. "Listen, Steven Grant Rogers, call me James one more time-"

"James..." Steve mocked, and Bucky didn't hesitate to throw the snowball. He burst out laughing at Steve's face covered by the snow. Then his eyes met Steve's shivering form, and he frowned. "You know, if you were cold, you could have told me and we would have stayed inside. Where's your jacket?" he scolded. "I want yours and I also don't have one," Steve whispered. His face was so adorable and pleading that Bucky's heart couldn't take it. He took off his jacket and draped it over Steve's shoulders. He didn't need a jacket anyway. Playing with his best friend in the snow gave him more than enough warmth. "Yay!" Steve cheered childishly. "Bucko loves me!"

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sat down next to Steve. He was barely shivering; the weather wasn't even that icy, and if his mother hadn't forced him to wear a jacket, he wouldn't have. Slowly taking off his scarf and gloves, his face lit up with the smallest smile. "You're a three-year-old in a sixteen-year-old body," Bucky concluded, casting a funny look at Steve, who merely grinned. But Steve shot him his big innocent puppy-eyed glance, and Bucky just shook his head, smiling widely.

Another star, you fade away

"Yeah, and you're a seventeen-year-old in a seventeen-year-old body, Buck, which isn't fun at all," Steve muttered under his breath. At his words, Bucky grinned widely, his face lit with unabashed pride. "I take that as a compliment, thanks, Stevie. It means that I'm as mature as I'm supposed to be. This maturity, regrettably, cannot be attributed to everyone present in this vicinity."