Bucky x Loki Oneshots

1943 (Part 3)

WARNING: MENTIONS OF WAR/ VIOLENCE

A/N: Thanks to literally everyone who follows, likes and comments! We've reached 3.19K reads, which may doesn't sound like much to some but it's a huge deal for me! Thank you guys so much, you're the best! :')

Ironically, to celebrate the 3K, here's part 3 of the 1943 fanfiction!  Just to keep everyone updated: Part 4 will focus on Bucky during the war fighting on the fronts!

Since this is based on some historical aspects, have some history facts!
The United States didn't join WW2 until the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 (Japan).
Whereas the US was mostly kept out from being attacked, they didn't have any active fronts in their country/on their continent. What they still had were Home Fronts, or as we german speaking folk would call it, "Heimatfront", which was basically civilians helping the troops by getting the country going and making weapons and munition, working in factories. A lot of people forget that so please remember: in a war there are more "soldiers" than the ones fighting in trenches. 

...

The day of the drafting.

"Maybe if you'd walk just a little bit faster, we might be able to get more done before I'm being shipped to Europe like a package." Bucky teased and turned around laughing; facing the taller man. He'd obviously be faster than the sergeant, without doubt. His legs were longer, he looked a bit fitter and he looked just like that kind of person who'd always walk way to fast in order to annoy and provoke people smaller than him. But instead the gigantic man strolled behind him, his head hanging low. His hat, that Bucky had borrowed a couple of times since he's met him covered his face. Not enough to hide the thin lips pressed together in distress. Bucky frowned.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" the soldier chuckled but came to a halt so that his partner could keep up.

"Uh, no." Loki forced a smile. "Just thinking, actually."

"Yeah? What're you thinking about?" the brown-haired man grinned. But he probably already knew what was going on inside his head. Ever since the days went by and his drafting was getting nearer, Loki started to keep more to himself. He barely talked with the confidence he had when they first met a few days ago and now that the day has finally come, it took away the last bit he had still left in him as well.

"You being sent away. I can't bear the idea of you fighting in a deadly war." Loki sighed and put his right hand on Bucky's arm, giving it a squeeze. But Bucky only laughed.

"It's war! No one want's to be a part of this, Loki. We'd all rather be here than fearing for our lives day for day, praying that we make it home alive. No one wants to take lives either."

"Then don't!" He pleaded. His eyes were wet with tears as he tried so desperately to keep James from going. For the first time since they've met, he raised his voice. Anger only slightly underlining his tone as the amount of fear was overwhelming. "This is not your war to fight! Why would you leave your safe home to fight for something other people are responsible for?"

This made Bucky let his smile drop. He knew, from all the fear and worry that must be going through Loki's mind he started to lose his morals as well. This wasn't Loki speaking, but his subconscious that feared his death so much. Loki had told him about his own family, how the only one whom he had ever loved and trusted was killed. He even mentioned his brother, but Bucky didn't think Loki had realized how much he meant to him. Blinded by the hate that followed the man like a shadow, he couldn't see how much of his love Thor had given him all these years. Just because of his father.

As Loki had told him about his life, Bucky couldn't help but wonder where he was from. He mentioned a palace he'd lived in, guards keeping people from entering without permission and he'd even talked about animals that Bucky had never heard of before. Their names sounded incredibly odd as well. But that was soon forgotten when James watched with saddened eyes how Loki feared to lose someone dear to him- again.

"No, it's not. You're right. But I can't let people slaughter their neighbours. The war may not take place where I am from, our people at home may be safe from fronts, camps and trenches, from being brutally murdered by soldiers passing by, but so many over there aren't. And they need my- no, OUR help. And if we don't stop them soon, they'll do more than bomb a harbour. I need to keep my country safe, Loki." He waited for a reaction- ANY reaction of the other man but he just kept on staring. As the seconds passed James put his hand on Loki's cheek. It wasn't a soft movement like he'd done dozen times before; he was rough, trying to get Loki to listen.

"Do you understand, Loki?" he asked forcefully as small tears formed in his eyes too. His voice cracked with emotion and his lip trembled ever so slightly as he forced it into a smile. But still he didn't respond. Slowly, but with care, Bucky took hold of Loki's head and dragged it down to his, resting their foreheads together. Their hats both falling to the ground.

Bucky's hands gripped the other man's cheeks firmly. Their breathing was fast but in sync. They closed their eyes as the emotions were growing too strong for both of them to properly handle.

"Please, Loki." Bucky whispered. And after minutes of trying to get him to understand, he received a nod in response. It wasn't very convincing, but Bucky got too far to question it now.

"I don't like this, James." Loki answered, but kept his forehead pressed against Bucky's. Partly because the other man still held his face in a tight grip and partly because he wanted to.

"I know." Bucky whispered. "But-" the soldier wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay. That he shouldn't worry. But Loki turned his head away, obviously not listening to him anymore.

"Hey, hey." Bucky said comforting. "Look at me." And Loki faced him again, still not fully wanting to hear how this conversation would be going.

"I'm coming back, alright?" Pause. "To you. We're going to win the war and I'll be home in no time. I promise." For the first time since they've started talking about his drafting, Bucky smiled again. And he meant it. He was coming back for him, and nothing, not even war could prevent that.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, James." Loki smiled as well, his mood slowly brightening up. He moved the hands that had held onto his face like claws from his head and held them for a while in his hands.
Afterall he couldn't do anything to stop Bucky from fighting anyway.

The rest of the day went by fast. They grabbed a bite to eat at a small restaurant, got Bucky's bag from his apartment and ended at the harbour, where the ship that brought them over the big sea was waiting for its departure. Sailors, soldiers, medics and high-ranking officers went on board, one by one saying goodbye to their families.

James put his bag on the ground between his feet and stared straight forward, taking in the gigantic ship made of metal.

"Damn, would you look at that?" he sighed, nodding his head in awe. "Stark's trying to amaze us with his flying car when things like this are much more interesting and already exist. Maybe we're living in the future all along?"

"I doubt that technology will end with this ship, James." Loki laughed.

"So, I guess this is our goodbye?"

Loki dragged the soldier a little bit to the side and kissed him softly. He shoved the hat that completed the uniform a bit aside, just like he had done the first time they've met. When they broke apart, he whispered,

"Please, don't make it our last goodbye."

"I won't. I told you before and a sergeant is always true to his words." He answered, straightening his uniform and hat before stepping out into the crowded place once more. He grabbed the bag and turned around, now walking backwards. He grinned and gave the man in the suit a single wave.

"Go home and enjoy the peace!" Bucky yelled happily before disappearing in the masses.

But Loki stayed and waited for the ship to depart. Once it was only a tiny point on the horizon, he left as well.