Never Go To A Stark Party

Chapter 11

"So..." Steve began after he smothered Bucky in kisses that the brunette shyly accepted. "You're saying that you have no recollection of Tony's party? Not a single thing?"

The other man nodded simply. "Yeah. All I remember is you taking me there and then leaving me halfway through the party. Dick move, by the way." He laughed playfully, joking.

Steve smiled apologetically and kissed Bucky's head. "To be fair..." He started. "Forgetting the most intimate moment of quite possibly your life is way more dick-ier than me ditching you to prep myself for confessing to you." He pressed another kiss to his head and chuckled when the man rolled his eyes.

"Someone sure is cocky."

"What can I say? You bring out the best--and maybe the worst--in me."

Bucky looked up at him. "What do you mean the worst?" He questioned curiously. The blonde hummed lightly, thinking his words over. He opened his mouth to speak after a few minutes.

"Not necessarily the worst. It's more like... Like you're my dark side." Bucky scoffed lightly as he interrupted him. He didn't mean to get offended, it just happened.

"You're telling me I'm all the bad things about you?

Steve sighed. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried rewording his sentence. "No, I meant it as in you're everything I don't show people. You're my ruthless side, I guess would be the way to put it. If anyone were to so much as threaten your life, I'd... Well, I'd stop at nothing to make sure you were safe. Even if I had to go against the government, my friends, civilians--anyone. That's not really something Captain America is known for, is it?"

The brunette nodded slowly, satisfied but also surprised with his lover's reply. He thought silently for a few moments to himself. Steve eventually went back to watching TV after he decided he should stop watching the man he'd loved for decades, lest he noticed Steve's affectionate gaze and grew uncomfortable. He kept an arm around the man's waist, however.

A while passed before another word was spoken. And when one was, it sparked a conversation that Steve was not ready for.

"Do you want to keep the baby?"

"..." Steve exhaled softly, stunted by the question. Bucky watched him critically. "Do you want me to be honest, Bucky?"

"Always, Stevie."

"Then, in my honest opinion, without holding anything back," The blonde spoke each word slowly, almost as if he was testing out the waters. "I don't think we should. Every other day, we're evading the end of the world. It's a routine. Go home, get some sleep, wake up, and stop whatever threat there is that day. Bringing a baby into a life like this, I couldn't bear the thought of it."

Bucky was silent for a few moments as he processed the man's words, head nodding absentmindedly. He glanced between Steve and the TV a few times.

"I understand." He said after a bit.

Steve looked at him with careful eyes. He gently rested his hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. "You don't have to, Buck."

"I know, I know. But if I'm gonna have a kid, I don't want it to live a life full of fear. Because that's the life it'll have. It'll wake up not knowing if its parents are still alive or if it's ever gonna see them again. I don't want our kid experiencing that type of trauma. I've gone through shit like that, and it ain't fun... Trust me." He sighed softly and leaned into the man's touch.

Steve nodded understandingly and brought him close. He wrapped his arms around his waist a bit tighter and held him.

"You're about two months by now, right?"

"Think so. Haven't really been keepin' count. Natasha does that for me."

The blonde laughed softly and pressed a gentle kiss to the other's head. Bucky chuckled with him before he nuzzled his face into Steve's neck and effectively muffled the sound.

"You've always been like that."

"Like what?"

"I don't know how to describe it. Carefree? You always used to just shrug things off. If I got into another fight and you had to beat the crap out of the other guys cause I lost and got beat to a pulp, you shrugged it off and did what you had to do. Half the time, it was overkill, what you did to them." Steve began to laugh as he recalled the distant memories. "That's somethin' I always admired about you."

"Oh yeah?" Bucky looked up at the blonde with his signature smirk, obviously flattered.

"Yeah. While I was getting mad at any and every single guy that looked at me wrong or disrespected me or someone else, you were taking what they said with a grain of salt. I used to wish I could be like that."

Bucky smiled widely as he pulled away. He felt more than flattered. He felt like he was sky high, soaring through the clouds and looking down at everyone and everything. To hear that Steve thought so highly of him when they were nothing more than kids warmed his heart and pleased him to no extent.

To think that Steve, the kid who used to wanna pick a fight with you if he so much as even thought you were too cocky, felt that way about Bucky, who was just that, was absolutely unbelievable.

Bucky grabbed Steve's hands and held them tightly in his own.

"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Stevie."

"Yeah, well," Steve stopped mid-sentence as he gave a comforting squeeze to their conjoined hands. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that you're happy. It's all I ever wanna hear."

The brunette laughed at the blonde's sappy claims and shook his head. "And I thought I was the lady killer. You know with the way you speak, it really shows that you're an artist."

Steve frowned playfully, secretly fawning over his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It just means you're real creative, is all." Bucky rested his head back against Steve's chest and sighed softly, content. The younger man chuckled and laid them back on the couch. Bucky then re-positioned himself on top of Steve so that he was comfortable once more.

"Thank you." Steve murmured.

The other man merely hummed in response, exhaustion starting to creep into him. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep on top of his blonde lover.

Steve gently rubbed Bucky's back as he slept. His eyes were trained on the top of the man's head, stare focused on every strand of brown hair that grew out of the man's scalp. If he could have, he'd have gladly counted each mud-colored lock. It was impossible, however, so he settled on merely admiring the other's soft hair.

Eventually, his mind wandered to the alien inside of Bucky. He felt a sense of pride well up in him but quickly ignored it. To feel anything besides sadness and regret for the dim life force would have been a bad thing, he decided. He couldn't give the kid anything other than a worrisome life. And that, in his eyes, was not a life.

He closed his eyes slowly.

It was a bit saddening, he thought to himself, that their first kid together would not make it out of the womb. Truth be told, he was starting to regret his decision. The thought of building his own family had never occurred to him, but faced with the possibility of having one--well, all he'd ever say about his decision was that maybe he answered a bit too quickly and carelessly.

He yawned quietly and closed his eyes. No use in dwelling on it. It'd be mean to go back on my decision.

Slowly, he fell asleep. Thoughts of Bucky and the family he could have had infiltrated his mind as he dozed off, and when he dreamt of them, a half-smile was on his face.