Till the End of the Line: Our Beginning | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Eight - Pt. 1

Chapter Eight

1935

"I'm freezing," Steve mumbled to himself. He was waiting for Bucky to get off work at the grocer. It'd become a routine for the two to walk home together and get dressed for work, or in Steve's case get his supplies. Then they'd walk down the block to the grocer so Bucky could work and Steve would sit outside with his art supplies. The owner of the grocer lets him sit outside and draw people for a small fee which Steve splits whatever he earns in half, some for him and some for the owner.

He had packed everything up after a particularly cold day, when the traffic started to slow and the evening grew quiet. He checked his watch, only to see he still had twenty minutes before Bucky got off. It was dark out and the January air was frigid, seeping right into Steve's bones.

With a sigh, he gathered his things and walked inside. It wasn't much warmer in the store, but he wasn't as cold. "I'm almost done," Bucky said from across the store. He had a feeling Steve would be in any minute now, shrugging off the two coats (Bucky pretended like he didn't notice Steve wearing his coat after he put on the apron) and sitting in the back corner.

Steve smiled at his friend, a blush rising on his cheeks. He loved when Bucky knew his habits and when he entered a room, it made him feel special. He moved to watch Bucky stock the shelves, hugging his supplies to his chest. "Need any help?"

"Nope." Bucky moved like a machine around the store, on auto-pilot as he glided from one aisle to another. "Boss man said I can leave as soon as I finish stocking the shelves. Then we can go home. Your Ma workin' late again?"

"Yup, things are always bad in the winter." Bucky nodded and finished his last box. Steve walked over, taking the cans and putting them on the lower shelves while Bucky took the higher ones. Bucky slapped his hands away, glaring at him. He went to say something, when Steve kept going. "I wanna go home, so let me help you."

Bucky huffed, but didn't argue. His long arms moved around the shelves with skill, muscle memory after years of working here. With Steve's help, he finished his work in a matter of seconds. "There we go." He took a step back, his eyes scanning just to make sure they were aligned neatly. His boss was a bit of a perfectionist. He adjusted two cans and nodded. "Let's go home, Stevie," he told the boy as he lifted up onto his feet.

Steve let out a sigh of relief and grabbed his things. He said a quiet goodnight to the owner, who happened to be falling asleep at the register. "Have a good night boys, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon," he mumbled with a lazy wave. Steve bit his lip and opened the door into the brisk air as Bucky came running with his coat back on and his apron off. He, too, said a quick goodbye before he ushered the blonde onto the street.

"Let's make a break for it, yeah?" Bucky whispered as they started to walk towards their building. Steve nodded and the two broke out into a sprint, dodging mailboxes and trash cans as they went. Bucky made sure his pace wasn't too fast for Steve, just in case he needed to stop. It was a risky idea for them to run in the cold air, Steve's asthma was so sensitive lately. . .

But they didn't stop. They both barreled up the steps and into the semi-warm building. Bucky stopped and tried to catch his breath, more of a show to ease Steve's mind. Steve knew Bucky didn't really need to take a break before taking the stairs, but it warmed his heart to think that Bucky was so considerate.

The blonde took a few wheezy breaths before he gave Bucky a nod, signalling it was okay to keep going. Bucky grinned and took the stairs two at a time, easing up the flight of stairs like it was nothing. Steve took a little longer, taking each step slowly. "Whatcha think Ma's got for dinner?" Bucky called, leaning against the railing on his floor to look down at Steve.