Drawing Lessons

Snow

Steve still had Bucky's coat. He hadn't had a chance to give it back yet, and he wasn't sure he'd ever run out of excuses to keep it. Bucky hadn't directly asked for it back yet, but every time Steve saw his friend he made some new excuse as to why he couldn't give it to Bucky just yet. Really, Steve just liked wearing it. It was soft and warm, as well as way too big for him, and he just liked how he practically drowned in the soft brown leather.

Today his excuse for not giving it back was that he brought it to school with the full intention of giving it to Bucky, but had forgotten to bring his own coat from home and it was supposed to snow all through the day. He would get cold without a coat.

"Hey!" Steve grinned as he pranced up to the flagpole out in front of the school. Bucky's jacket was unzipped and the wind was flinging it around Steve's stick-thin form as he moved through the hastily falling snowflakes.

"Hi," Bucky responded, smiling at Steve, "You ever gonna give me my coat back?" He laughed a little as he said it, but was only half joking. It was snowing out and all he had on was a lightweight bomber jacket.

"No." Steve replied smartly. He smiled tauntingly and Bucky could have just died right then and there because snowflakes had fallen onto Steve's eyelashes.

"You sure about that?" Bucky asked, a devilish smile sliding onto his handsome face as he turned away from Steve to hide what he was doing.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Steve asked, feigning cockiness despite being a little worried about what Bucky was doing that he couldn't see. He tried to see around Bucky, but only caught glimpses of snow in Bucky's hands. "Bucky, what are you doing?"

Quickly, in one fluid movement, Bucky turned and flung a snowball at Steve's chest.

For a moment, Steve wasn't sure what had happened. He looked down at his snow-covered shirt and made a small, incoherent noise. He looked back up at Bucky for a second.

Then, like a flash, Steve took off sprinting ten feet away. He dropped to his knee and packed a snowball of his own, taking aim and missing Bucky completely. Instead, his snowball hit the back of an older girl walking out of their school. She turned around to glare at the two boys.

"Sorry!" Steve called before being pelted in the face with one of Bucky's snowballs. Thinking quickly, Steve gathered as much snow as he could carry and rushed Bucky, dumping it all over him. Bucky had been kneeling on the ground forming another snowball, so instead of trying to get back up after being covered in a pile of snow, he just lay down on the cold ground and rubbed the frigid water off his face.

"Punk." He muttered in the general direction of Steve.

Steve being the type of person he was, simply scooped up more snow and dropped it neatly on Bucky's already covered face. Bucky being the type of person he was, flailed his arms around madly until he managed to grasp at something: his leather jacket. Eyes still closed and covered with melting snow, Bucky tugged the jacket toward himself until Steve tumbled down in the snow next to him.

"Jerk." Steve gasped out, as he had by then been laughing like a madman for quite awhile. Bucky was scraping up more snow and filling the leather jacket with it until Steve finally managed to squirm out of it and stand up, wet and shivering but still laughing his head off.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at Steve. Blond hair sticking up in all directions, drenched plaid shirt clinging to his thin bones, snowflakes falling all around him as a reckless grin filled his face.

"Fine, you win." Bucky mumbled, sitting up and shaking the half-melted slush out of his hair, "But I have the jacket, so there."

"Never pick a snowball fight with me," Steve smiled proudly as Bucky stood up and brushed himself off, "Don't forget: I've been in enough fights to know how to win."

"Yeah, but remember," Bucky smiled, holding up his jacket like a trophy, "If I really had to run away I could. I'm on the track team and you're just a little dandelion fluff."

"I'm all soaked, not to mention freezing," Steve abruptly changed the topic of conversation, stepping out to walk in the direction of Bucky's house, "Maybe you should give me your coat back."

"Maybe you should go home and think about your choices." Bucky retorted, holding the jacket under his arm as he walked next to Steve.

"Maybe you should make me some hot chocolate." Steve suggested, shivering as a gust of wintry air swept by.

"You really want hot chocolate?" Bucky turned to look at Steve, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, I do." Steve stated with a level of entitlement that he really didn't deserve.

"Fine, then, I'll make you hot chocolate. C'mon." Bucky put his arm around Steve because the smaller boy's lips were starting to turn blue and Bucky still didn't want to give in and let Steve have his coat again. That was the only reason. Definitely the only reason. Bucky could feel Steve's rib cage rattling as he shivered rather violently under Bucky's arm. Looking retrospectively, a snowball fight hadn't actually been the greatest idea, but it had been fun.

*                         *                         *

"My god, Steve, you're like ice!" Bucky exclaimed as he closed the door to his house. It had become more evident once they got inside just how mush Steve was trembling, just how blue his lips were. The mere fact that his wet clothes and hair had begun to freeze outside spoke volumes on its own.

"It's f-fine." Steve tried to brush off Bucky's concern but his voice trembled too much.

"No, you're gonna get frostbite or something. Here, I'll get you a blanket, maybe some dry clothes..." Bucky trailed off as he had already bounded up the stairs to get items of warmth for Steve.  He had only known Steve for a little while but this had to be the third or fourth time he'd found himself overcome with a need to rescue Steve.

Bucky wasn't entirely sure why, but he always wanted to protect the little blond kid and keep him safe at all times. Most of the time it was irrational, but other times Steve really did need Bucky to swoop in and rescue him. It was  something of a miracle the tiny, rather audacious boy hadn't been killed by his own poorly thought out actions before Bucky even had a chance to meet him.

"Here, change into these," Bucky handed Steve a small stack of loosely folded clothes, "I'll go make you hot chocolate if you still want it."

"T-thanks." Steve acknowledged earnestly as Bucky disappeared toward the kitchen.

The clothes, presumably Bucky's, were comically huge on Steve. Just to be able to wear them, the small kid had to roll up the sleeves of the shirt and the legs of the pants until they were huge wads of fabric handing loosely around his ankles and wrists. He thought he looked kind of like a baby egret, especially with the awkward way his hair poked up around his head. Egrets were among his favorite kind of bird to draw, second only to tiny sparrows.

After a few minutes which Steve spent huddled on Bucky's couch, wrapped up in a thick quilt, Bucky reappeared holding two steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Steve smiled a small smile as he accepted one of the mugs in his two hands.

"Thanks." Steve said softly.

"No problem." Bucky replied, pulling the blanket back a little so he could wrap up in it as well.

They didn't say anything else for a long time, just sat there under the blanket sipping their cocoa. Quietly, scooting slightly closer to his friend, Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's waist. Despite how warm he was under the blanket, Bucky shivered, his breath hitching. He took in a breath like he was about to say something to Steve, then let it out after no words came to mind.

"What?" Steve asked faintly.

"Nothing." Bucky replied, taking another sip from his mug. He decided to just leave the moment alone, content with staying curled up quietly in a blanket with Steve.