Marvel One-Shots

Stucky-Someone Will See

"I can do this all day!" Steve Rogers choked through a mouthful of saliva and blood. The other guy, much bigger and stronger than him, laughed, gearing up to swing at him again. Steve closed his eyes, already anticipating the blow. How many times had he been in this precise situation, with the only variable being the asshole that was beating him up? A different one, every time.

The pain didn't come. Strong fingers had wrapped around the other guy's wrist, pulling his fist backwards. A punch came from behind, knocking the other guy flat on his face. This whole scene inspired a spark of déjà vu. There he stood, Steve's knight in shining armor: James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes. Thank God he wasn't wearing his uniform this time. Steve always felt even more inadequate than usual beside Bucky in his uniform.

The other guy staggered to his feet, not even bothering to try and hit Bucky. He stalked off, leaving Bucky and Steve alone together in the back corner of the dingy alley.

"Goddamn, Steve." Bucky extended a hand and hauled the bloodied Steve to his feet.

"Save it."

"I mean it. How do you even manage to do this every Saturday night?"

"Got nothing better to do, now do I?" He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky wormed his arm under Steve's armpit, supporting his weight as they loped awkwardly out of the alley, and then to Bucky's place. It was small, conservative, neat as a pin. Steve collapsed into what was now known as 'his chair'. The plush seat was stained all over with blood, from nights just like this.

"Now, sit still. This one got you good." Bucky pulled out his first-aid kit and set to work patching Steve up. Steve flinched as his best friend touched his split lip.

"I said, keep still."

"You sure they don't need you in Medical, and not on the front line?"

"And lose their best chance at winning this? Pfft, never." Steve fell silent and allowed himself to be duly patched, wincing and flinching when appropriate. Bucky worked with bated breath; if he had been breathing properly, Steve would have felt it on his stinging face.

"I'm starting to think you do this to sabotage my dates and spend all this quality time together," Bucky teased, a fond smile curling his lips.

"I'm not feeding your ego, Barnes."

"That's a pathetic excuse to avoid telling me that I'm right." The smile faded and a seriousness crossed his face.

"I hate seeing you in pain. I hate that you let this happen and so often."

"Yeah, I know."

Bucky set a steaming mug of something in front of him. Soup. Bucky always made good soup. Steve sipped it slowly. He could feel his friend's eyes on him.

"Why do you do it? Is it some lame attempt to prove yourself, or something else? Do you honestly enjoy the pain?" Steve shrugged listlessly.

"I don't know why I do it. I just do it."

Cold water bit into him, soaking his clothes and skin and making his bones ache. He floundered and struggled, but his head was under. He couldn't swim. Blood swirled around him, his own. Salt stung his wounds, still fresh. Water was up his nose, in his ears, in his mouth, down his throat, in his lungs. Black.

"...-eve..."

"Godda..."

"STEVE!"

Steve felt pressure on his chest as water surged up his throat and out of his nose and mouth. He coughed, back arching, and drew in a laboured breath, air rattling in his sore lungs. Then, out of nowhere, a pair of warm, soft lips came down on his own and air was pushed into him. Fingers pinched his nose hard and more water jetted up and out.

Strong, big hands rolled Steve onto his side. He was too weak to resist, soaked to the core. His bones ached. He was exhausted. And still, the hands persisted, rolling him back and then the lips, breathing into him again. His eyes fluttered open.

Bucky was kissing him. Well, not kissing him, but resuscitating him. Which included mouth-to-mouth contact. He felt his heart beat faster, hurting his chest. Bucky pulled away, concerned eyes searching for any signs of life. He was drenched too. His usually neat hair was straggling down the sides of his face, where it would curl later. Those strong fingers were gentle as they traced the line of his cheekbone.

"Steve..." The name dropped from Bucky's lips gently, lovingly.

"Bucky," Steve choked, the rest of the water coming up more gently. Bucky held him tightly around the torso.

"Thought you were dead, thought you'd left me, thought you were dead..."

"Never leave you," Steve rasped in reply. His throat hurt. Bucky kissed him again, a real kiss this time. Steve pressed a thin hand to his friend's chest.

"Someone will see." They both knew the weight of the situation. If they were seen, it could mean another beating, perhaps something worse.

"I don't care. I have waited so long to do that. So damn long." Bucky's eyes were on him again, searching for something different this time.

"I didn't realize..."

"Yeah." Bucky pulled back, eyes harder now.

"No, don't. Don't do that. K-Kiss me. Kiss me again. Please?"

They were soaked. They were freezing. They were uncomfortable. They were frightened. They were kissing. They were exposed. They were complete.