Love Me Tender

Seventy-five years.

You unknowingly waited for 75 goddamn years for a man that you believed was never coming back.

But he did. Your man, your love, your Bucky was back. And he was standing not two feet from you and not a single coherent thought was running through your mind. So you just stood there, absolutely fucking dumbfounded and just staring at him, and he just stared right back. He had a slight smirk on his face, like he knew that you would react like this. He looked more or less exactly as he did all those years ago. Strong jaw, which was now covered in a small amount of stubble, he had grown his hair out so that it was now near shoulder length, and he was a bit more muscular than you remembered.

He said your name, not like he was trying to get your attention, but more like he was assuring himself that that was in fact, your name.

"James..." It was more a question than a statement.

"Oh c'mon now doll," he said, Brooklyn accent slightly slipping through as he spoke, "you should know by now that that name is reserved for my mother and the bedroom."

You chuckled at that and stepped aside so that he could squeeze into your apartment. It was a small space that only had the essentials; a kitchen/dining room combo, bathroom, and one bedroom. You had originally bought it back in the 40's when you were young and only saw it as a starter apartment, but as you grew older, it grew on you. Now that you were 103 years-old and had a sweet young nurse who would bring you your food, medications, and anything else that you might need, you really couldn't imagine being anywhere else, especially one of those god awful old people homes that your nieces and nephews tried to get you into.

"So you're still livin' in the city after all these years." he said.

"Yea. I had planned on moving into the suburbs after the war to lay down some roots but after everything that happened..." you trailed off.

"You would feel like you were leaving me behind." he finished for you, almost as if he could read your mind. You looked up at him in shock. "Relax doll. Steve told me how he felt the same way about leaving S.H.I.E.L.D because of Peggy."

You sighed in relief, but as you did, you broke into a violent coughing fit, and Bucky, ever the gentleman, rushed over to you, escorted you over to the couch and went to grab you a nearby glass of water and give it to you.

After the coughing had subsided you looked over to Bucky only to realize that he was looking at you like you were a hurt puppy. "Ja-Bucky c'mon, don't look at me that way. I may look like I'm about to just drop dead right here right now but I promise I won't." He gave you a weak smile and nod in response.

"So, I assume you have some questions for me." he said, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

"I do," you simply stated, "but none are worth you worrying over. I'm just glad that you're back."

"Me too doll, me too."

The two of you sat in silence, with the exception of your record player playing in the background, for a few moments, neither of you knowing where to go from there. The record that you had been listening to ended and you and Bucky only had the telltale clicking of said record to dull the silence between the two of you before he abruptly got up and said, "Let's see if your music taste has improved over the last 70 years doll" he teased and made his way over to your impressive stack of records that you had collected over your impressive lifespan.

"Seventy-five years." you corrected him playfully.

After watching him stare at the records for what seemed like eternity, he finally grabbed one and kept it hidden from you as he made his way over to the record player and placed the record on the turntable and lowered the needle.