Call It What You Want: Home Series 1 (Trans!Steve and Pan!Bucky Summer AU)

Forty-Four

The fireworks boomed and cackled overhead. Their flashing lights and alluring colors painting the sky. Not as impressive as the ones back home, but still entertaining. Even if it was mainly due to Brock singeing his arm hairs by trying to show off with a Roman candle.

Steve couldn't help but snicker to himself.

Meanwhile, Natasha laughed as loud as she could; rivaling the booming light show.

Sitting there on the lawn between Natasha and Bucky, Steve held his legs close to his chest. Tilting his head back to watch the fireworks. Wondering if he could recreate those properly in a sketch later. He was a decent artist, but he always had difficulties with fireworks. It was utterly infuriating. It really just --

"Are you cold?" Bucky asked, leaning over, so Steve could hear him over the noise.

Steve's brows furrowed as he tore his gaze away from the sky to Bucky. Being almost as speechless as he gazed into Bucky's eyes as he was by the art in the sky. Blinking his mind clear, Steve realized that he was involuntarily shivering and goosebumps were visible on his skin. Knowing that he should get up and get a sweater. But he didn't want to. He'd have to get up and that had the potential of causing a commotion.

Which Steve wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Here," Bucky insisted, shrugging out of his gray zip-up hoodie. Holding the sweatshirt out to Steve.

Steve's brows furrowed and he declined, "It's okay. You wear it."

Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and reassured, "I don't need it and you're cold."

"I'm not --"

"Your teeth are chattering," Bucky interrupted Steve's protest. Sighing, Bucky's expression softened and insisted again, "Take it, please?"

Chewing on his own lower lip, Steve internally debated. Worrying his lower lip, he tried to set up a quick list of pros and cons. Of course, after coming up with his first pro -- (1) it'd smell like Bucky -- Steve couldn't think of anything else. And suddenly, Steve didn't want to try and think of anything else.

Hesitantly, Steve caved and took the sweatshirt from Bucky. Absolutely not missing the pleased look on Bucky's face as he slid his arms into the sweatshirt. A swell of pride seeping into Steve's chest as he effortlessly pulled up the zipper and brought his knees up to his chest again. Hugging his legs to his torso and discreetly inhaling deeply.

Even after Steve stopped trying to breathe in Bucky's natural musk and citrus body wash, it was still lingering and fogging Steve's mind. Content, Steve turned his gaze back to the fireworks. Needing just a moment to catch his breath before looking over at Bucky. His words stopped on his tongue before he even had the chance to open his mouth when he realized that Bucky was already watching him.

Swallowing thickly, Steve averted his gaze and leaned over, "Thanks."

"No problem," Bucky reassured, fondly knocking his shoulder against Steve's as they sat side by side.

A smile stretching Steve's lips, he ducked his head into his knees. Taking a moment to pray to any god or goddess out there that he'll remember this moment forever. Hoping that it'll still be there when he's older and the years have eclipsed the summer that they shared together. Then, Steve turned his attention back to the skies. Not just for the fireworks, but praying that Bucky will remember him too.

"They're great, right?" Bucky asked, trying to make his voice loud enough to be heard over the noise.

Keeping his eyes on the colors and designs, Steve nodded and admitted, "They're my favorite part of my birthday."

"Wait, what?" Bucky questioned.

Oh no, Steve thought and quickly turned his attention to Bucky. With wide eyes, Steve turned the question on Bucky, "What?"

"Your birthday?" Bucky's brows were arched high on his forehead, "Is... today... your birthday?"

"Uh," Steve started but didn't know how to finish. He didn't like to be the center of attention. He didn't like people knowing it was his birthday because then it would make him the center of attention. And no matter how revealing or shocking Natasha's outfit was, wouldn't change that. He knew from experience.

Then, Bucky was standing from his spot on the grass. Shit, Steve couldn't help but think. Quickly, Steve stood from his spot too and headed into the house. Not sure if Bucky was going to make it a big deal. But since Bucky was rummaging through the kitchen looking for something, Steve assumed that he was, in fact, going to make it a big deal.

"What are you doing?" Steve quietly questioned, joining Bucky in the kitchen.

Bucky took one of the leftover mini-pies from the fridge and placed it on the counter. As he reached up, his shirt rode slightly up and Steve shook his head. Instead, focusing on the handsome brunet in front of him, Steve glared at the countertop.

"I don't want it to be a big deal," Steve mumbled, looking at the colors in the unique countertop.

Pausing, Bucky glanced over his shoulder. Getting whatever he was looking for, Bucky closed the cabinet door and leaned on the counter. Steve peeked up to find Bucky looking at him. Steve's favorite slow grin was on Bucky's face and Bucky assured, "Then, we won't make it a big deal."

"Thank you," Steve sighed in relief. Noticing the clear container of candles though, Steve's brows furrowed and he asked, "What're those?"

"Just because we're not gonna make it a big deal doesn't mean that you can't blow out some candles." Smiling, Bucky opened the container and started looking over the candles, "Now, how old are you?"

Steve's speechless for a moment. Blinking to clear his head and hoping to settle the butterflies in his stomach, Steve cleared his throat and answered, "Seventeen."

"Damn," Bucky sighed. Steve's brows furrowed and Bucky held up a candle with a number one on it, "We're missing the seven."

Pressing his lips together, Steve couldn't help but smile. Especially when Bucky improvised by placing a four and a three candle beside the one on the pie. Lighting the candles, Bucky slid the pie across the counter to Steve and smiled, "Happy birthday, Stevie. Make a wish."

For a moment, Steve stared at the little pie with his teeth in his lower lip. There was only one wish that Steve could think of in that moment. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and blew out the candles with the simple wish of: Please, let him remember me forever.