after the end [stucky]

five

Except the truth is I can't bear to be alone.

Dark pries my eyes open except it doesn't slam another memory or a figment of trauma into my mind. A warm body presses against my cold flesh and I realise where I am.

I'm in Bucky's and Sam's apartment. I'm lying next to Bucky Barnes, my best friend. It's morning. I didn't have a nightmare. I'm awake. I'm safe.

The last two words ring again and again through the a.m. quiet.

I'm safe I'm safe I'm safe I'm—

"Steve?" Bucky mumbles.

I turn myself to face him. His eyes are still closed, his dark lashes fluttering upon pale skin.

"Yes?" I whisper into the shadows.

A pause.

He slowly opens his eyes, tousled hair tickling his cheeks. My own face warms at the sight of how innocent he looks, how peaceful he is next to me.

He is an angel.

"Are you alright?"

Not, Did you have a nightmare? or Did you forget to take your pills again? as my therapist would ask. Sure, it's Teresa's job to question my current state of being but we never have that emotional connection. I'm her patient, she gets payed, and we all get to go home at the end of the day.

No, nothing can ever be the same as what I have with Bucky. So I look into those sleepy eyes and murmur, "I'm okay."

Because I won't lie and say that "I'm fine." Fine is another excuse that the inner voice chants, taunting me. It's a euphemism for calling me coward rather than face my fears. But another truth is...

"Are you sure? You were tossing around for a bit."

"I'm not used to sleeping next to another person." Half-truths.

Even in the dark, I can see his brows furrow. "We did it all the time in the war, though. Pressed against each other. Body heat. Tents. Limited space. Remember?"

I do. And I'm about to say that but instead my mouth blurts, "I meant, I'm not used to sleeping next to you, Buck."

"Oh."

"I— uh..." I start, still staring at him.

"Should I... Do you want me to move into the other room?"

"No—no it's fine. It's okay. I—I want... I want you here."

I want you, I almost say.

What the fuck?

"Okay," Bucky says.

The silence between us lingers. My own thoughts race in my head.

Why do I want him?

I shake my head vigorously, sitting up. Bucky moves instantly, despite his tiredness just seconds before, cupping my face between his strong hands.

"Steve, are you sure you're alright?"

His grip on my cheeks is hard but not too hard so that I can nod. He sighs and releases me, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Old man, can't sleep on his own. Thought he wet himself but he just needs some pampering," he mutters with a smile.

I feel my own lips tug at the corners. "Old man who saved your life multiple times."

There's a twinkle in his eyes as he faces me. "Old man who saved the whole universe but still needs me to survive, because he can't get by on his own."