Moments in Time

Raindrops

Bucky stared at the headstone, letting his fingers trace the letters etched in the marble. He felt numb, unable to cry, yet so sad it felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, still beating.

The others didn't know he spent most nights next to his lover. Rain, snow, cold... nothing deterred him from being there. He couldn't stop himself.

Gentle rain fell, caressing his skin, washing away the most intense pain, but not reaching the ache that had settled in his bones.

His hand traced Bucky's metal digits, awe and wonder evident in his honest face. His blond hair stuck up in every direction, making him look adorable and sleepy.

"You're beautiful, sweetheart," Steve had whispered, pausing to press feather light kisses to his metal skin. "Every part of you is perfect."

Bucky hadn't cried, not then. But he had saved the words and repeated them to himself any time he felt uncomfortable around people, or when he needed a hug and nobody was there to get one from. The words warmed him up from the inside out, making him feel cherished and safe.

Bucky leaned his back against the headstone, frowning dismally as he sat there in the downpour. His throat felt closed off and sore, and he just wanted a cuddle from his best guy.

"It'll get better," was what all his friends said.

"You'll move on eventually," they assured him.

Bucky swore if he ever did move on, it wouldn't be with another person, it would be to a grave. He couldn't find someone as precious as Steve. There was nobody the size of a giant, but as innocent as a kid. Nobody could look or feel or taste as good as Stevie did.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's eagerness, but let him have his way. Bucky straddled his waist, placing feverish kisses all over the pillar - like throat that belonged to his best guy. His tongue swirled, his teeth nipped. He couldn't help the pleasure that welled up inside when Steve responded with deep moans and gasps, hands reaching up and tangling in Bucky's messy hair.

Bucky attached himself to the velvety softness of Steve's lips, letting his taste envelope his senses. Steve tasted of coffee and mint, a strange but comforting combination to Bucky's mind.

Steve smiled at Bucky, eyes glimmering in the moonlight, skin smooth as cream and just as pale. His face was flushed, and his chest was heaving from their lack of air, but he couldn't have been more beautiful.

"I love you, Steve," Bucky had confessed, burrowing into Steve's muscular arms, begging silently for a hug. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Bucky," Steve had replied, squeezing Bucky just how he liked, and carding his fingers through long, dark hair. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Bucky had fallen asleep, still curled up beside Steve, wrapped in his loving embrace. That was a night he wouldn't forget soon.

"I miss you, Steve," Bucky sighed, letting a single tear mingle with the rain.

Bucky had never seen another human being so delicate, yet so defiant. Steve looked like he would fall over any minute, yet he never hesitated. Blood dripped from his nose and lip, and a scowl pinched his eyebrows.

"Whatcha looking at?" Steve snarled, holding his fists up, preparing for another fight.

"Probably the bravest kid in Brooklyn," Bucky had grinned. "Come on, let me get you cleaned up."

That was the start of a beautiful friendship. Bucky fell in love a few years after, at the age of eighteen. But he never confessed it to Steve. Not until they had been separated for a lifetime, and Bucky had been to hell and back.

But they both cherished what they had, becoming lovers, and then eventually boyfriends.

Bucky fingered the velvet box that was tucked away in his pocket. His lip quivered as he sniffed quietly.

"I never got the chance to ask if you'd be my husband, Stevie. But I know you would've been over the moon. You're such a romantic dweeb sometimes..." Bucky's voice choked up, getting lost in the howl of the storm.

Footsteps approached, but Bucky didn't care. He was sitting beside his love, and nothing was going to make him move.

"Whatcha doing, pal?" Clint Barton asked, soaked completely through.

Bucky didn't respond, just lowered his eyes, and brought his knees to his chin for a hug.

"I get it man, I really do. Just...maybe next time bring an umbrella?" Clint sighed, offering a waterproof coat.

"Doesn't matter," Bucky shrugged.

Clint didn't bother to argue. He knew that Bucky was impossible when he was like this.

"You know he loves you, right?" Clint gently questioned. "Love like yours is pretty much indestructible. Just remember that he would want you to be happy. He would hate that you're so sad and depressed."

"I know," Bucky admitted, raising pained eyes to look at his friend. "But Steve was everything. I have nothing left."

"That's not true. You have us, the Avengers. We may not be as old of a friend as Steve, but we're still friends. We love you, man," Clint shook his head. "We've been worried about you, but we're not quite sure what you need."

"I need Steve," Bucky answered, squeezing his knees.

Clint recognized the loneliness Bucky exuded, and did something that he was not known for. He gripped Bucky by the shoulders, and tugged him into his chest, hugging him tight.

"We all do," Clint agreed. "We miss him too, you know. He was a good leader, and an even better friend."

"I didn't get to ask him if he'd marry me, Clint. I had everything planned, and then he went off and died," Bucky confessed, letting the tears finally flow. "And I know why he did it, but I'm still so mad at him. I don't want to be mad, Clint. But I am. He left me alone...!"

Clint just listened as the rain beat down on them both. Washing away the anger, and leaving a deep tenderness behind. Bucky, for the first time thought he might be okay eventually. Not good, but better.

"I'll love you even when I'm gone, James Buchanan Barnes," Steve had promised once.

Bucky could still feel it. Steve's love reached beyond the grave, comforting and warming Bucky's heart. And somehow, he knew it would always be there when he needed it.