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You give me your arms and your arms are like angel wings
Sweet to my ears is the song every bluebird sings
Each rosebud kissed by the dew
All this is mine and heaven too.
‘All This and Heaven Too,’ Tom Dorsey and Frank Sinatra
Steve had read all of Erskine’s notes about the serum before it ever entered his veins. The doctor had wanted Steve to be fully informed before he climbed into the machine that would change his body forever. So he knew, in theory, about bigger muscles, quicker reflexes, and the magnification of the very essence of the soul — good becomes great, bad becomes worse. However, theory was one thing.
Reality was another.
Yes, the scratching wheeze in his chest was gone and he could lift a motorcycle piled with USO girls one-handed. And sure, he now saw the world in colors he’d never truly seen before; the soft green fields of Iowa, the hazy orange and purple sky at sunset, the bright, shiny red of Peggy’s lacquered nails. But nothing had prepared him for how his own feelings and emotions would intensify, as if everything were now permanently dialed to 11.
When Steve found Bucky on that table in Azzano, when Bucky finally smiled at him in recognition, in hope, his chest bloomed and flowered with every good and wonderful memory he’d ever had of their years together. He was transported from the darkness of war to sunny summers on the Barnes’s fire escape, just a couple of shirtless kids with sharp elbows and, if they were lucky, a shared shaved ice. His mind shifted to Bucky’s attempts to whip his two left feet into shape when they were fresh out of school, to his bright eyes and full smile whenever they’d catch a Dodgers game on a crisp spring day.
Who needed color, really, when the whole world had been painted in shades of Bucky Barnes?
Except that world was literally coming down around them. There wasn’t time to reminisce or sort through the barrage of feelings and thoughts that flooded through him from one mere look at his childhood best friend.
So he hauled him off the table, slung his arm around his waist, and then followed him through the engulfing fire.
*
“Let’s hear it for Captain America,” Bucky had said when they’d returned to base, and then Steve continued to hear it over and over the rest of the day. He was promised 20 rounds at the bar a mile down the road, and one sergeant even offered to buy him a night with a dame.
But another dozen guys came up to him after his debrief with Phillips and said they’d bought him a night in the inn above said bar.
“A real bed!”
“And hot water!”
“Uh, that’s real swell, fellas,” he responded, “but surely one of you should take it. You were in that camp for a long time.” He was still pretty fresh from his USO tour and hadn’t spent nearly as many nights on the ground as these guys had.
“Nah, we might not’ve made it out of there without ya, Cap.” They looked so earnest and grateful, and Steve didn’t want to be rude. So he accepted the key with a smile and a plan to give it to Bucky.
When Steve told him the room was his, Bucky gave him a tired half-grin. “I’m not gonna say no to a hot bath, Rogers. But you should really take the room. They got it for you.”
“We could share it,” Steve replied, his stomach fluttering at the thought, but he pressed on. “Like when we were kids. I don’t mind.”
Bucky’s eyes swept over his body, probably still as unused to his size as Steve still was. “We could both fit back then, pal.”
Steve shrugged. “We’ll make it work or you can take it. You deserve it.” Bucky looked like he was about to argue, but he finally nodded. “Good. Why don’t you go ahead, then? You can get in the bath and I’ll get some first aid supplies.”
“So it really is like old times,” Bucky replied with a cheeky grin. “But now you’re nursing me up for once.”
He laughed and walked off, calling, “Fuck off, Barnes,” behind him.
*
When Steve arrived at the inn, he knocked on the door, and Bucky yelled that it was open. There was a fire crackling in a small hearth, and Bucky was sitting in a bathtub in the opposite corner. It reminded Steve of the old tub in the tenement that he grew up in. His ma had strung up a makeshift curtain so they could at least have some privacy from one another, but there was no curtain here. So Steve had full view of Bucky’s thin frame, mottled and bruise. He sucked in a sharp breath and Bucky’s shoulders sagged in response.
“I know,” Bucky sighed. “The look in the mirror was, uh, shocking.”
“No. No,” Steve slung his duffle bag to the ground and crossed the room to kneel before the tub. He grabbed Bucky’s forearm and squeezed gently. “A little food and rest and you’ll be right as rain.”
“Yeah,” Bucky responded, though he sounded unsure.
“The hot water feels good at least?”
He nodded. They were silent for several moments while Steve tamped down on his fears and worries, telling himself that Bucky was alive right in front of him. He felt a sudden urge to press his palm against his chest and feel the beating life within him, wanting just one more sign that he hadn’t lost him after all.
“Stevie,” Bucky whispered, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Yeah, Buck?”
“I, uh,” he huffed a sad laugh. “I can’t… fuck, it’s hard to lift my arms above my head right now. Would you wash my hair?”
“Yeah, of course.” He took off his jacket and the suit top, leaving himself in an undershirt. Then he placed a gentle hand behind Bucky’s neck and tilted his head. “Lean back.” Bucky did as he was told, letting his head fall into the water. When he sat back up, Bucky laughed and then winced. His ribs must’ve been sore. “What is it?”
“Just thinkin’. If things were reversed, you probably would’ve just bumbled around all of Europe with filthy hair ‘cause you’d be too stubborn to ask for help.”
He was right, but Steve wasn’t about to give Bucky the satisfaction of saying so. So he flicked his ear softly and rolled his eyes, ignoring the aching fondness in his chest. “You want clean hair or not, Barnes?”
He nodded and closed his eyes before tilting his head back -- a clear invitation for Steve to continue. Steve was suddenly struck by the vulnerability of Bucky’s position in the bath. He’d been through hell and back and still he closed his eyes, exposed his jugular, and let himself be completely unguarded in Steve’s presence.
“Steve?” Bucky asked, because yeah, it’d been several moments and Steve had a job to do here.
“Yep. On it.” He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Then he unscrewed the vial of shampoo to pour some into his palm before getting behind the tub. When his hands began to work the suds into his hair, Bucky sighed in contentment, his body visibly relaxing as Steve massaged his scalp.
The room was quiet now, save for the sounds of soapy hands in his hair and the crackling fire. So Steve didn’t expect Bucky to speak when he quietly rasped, “I thought you were a fuckin’ angel.”
Steve’s hands paused momentarily before continuing. “What?”
Bucky’s eyes were still closed as he spoke again. “Come to rescue me.” He huffed. “An angel with little Stevie’s face who was big and powerful and had come to either walk me out the front door or through the pearly gates.”
Steve cleared the sudden lump in his throat. “Nah, just me.” He moved back to the side of the tub and cradled the nape of Bucky’s neck in his palm.
Bucky shrugged and grinned. “Could still be an angel for all I know. A hot bath, a warm bed, and—” he opened his eyes to meet Steve’s gaze and then looked downward, “and you here with me. You could call that heaven.”
“Oh,” Steve whispered, the words uncomfortably intimate and heavy in the air as Steve held Bucky’s head aloft. “Y-you can lean back now.” He did so, and Steve used the fingers of his other hand to rake through his hair, making sure all of the shampoo was rinsed out.
“Thank you,” Bucky said, closing his eyes again and resting his head against the lip of the tub.
Steve had always known that Bucky was handsome; he had a strong jawline, thick hair that just begged to be mussed, and a smile that could melt an iceberg. But he looked so beautiful now, even with his thinned face, that something new and unnamed burned hot and low in Steve’s belly.
“You alright?” Bucky asked, sitting up.
Steve meant to say yes or sure but instead he asked, “No gals?”
“Huh?”
What the hell, Rogers? “No gals in this heaven of yours?”
Bucky’s eyes met his again, piercing and blue and breathtaking. “When I was…” his voice quivered. “When you’re a POW, you start to think about what you’d do if you ever got out of there. You think about the shit you really want in life.” He paused, rubbing absently against his knee just above the water, and Steve waited for him to continue. “I’ve always kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want to ruin anything or scare you off. But I figure… fuck, the shit you did to rescue me from HYDRA, maybe you won’t care. Maybe our friendship’s enough.”
His brows furrowed. “Bucky, wha—”
“I love you.” His voice was resolute, the strongest it had been since he’d told him he wasn’t leaving the facility without him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” He scrubbed a wet hand over his face, leaving beads of water in its wake. “So yeah, if I get to build my own paradise, I’m picking you over a dame.”
Steve sat back on his haunches and exhaled shakily. Bucky’s words were a sudden revelation, an explanation of that certain something that had always been between them, the simultaneous roaring flame and lulling waters that rose within him whenever Bucky called him by name.
Bucky coughed nervously. “Uh, you look kinda spooked, but... I promise, Stevie, this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best—”
Steve surged forward and kissed him, just a quick, chaste press of lips. When he pulled back, Bucky looked at him with wide eyes before his mouth curved into a soft smile. “Oh.” His hand came forward as if to cup Steve’s face, but he winced as he did so.
“Hey, hey, take it easy.” Steve leaned forward over the tub so Bucky could easily reach him. Then he gently picked up his hand and placed it against his cheek.
Bucky’s eyes met his, serious and searching. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you felt—”
Steve laughed softly, shaking his head. “I didn’t either. I mean, I didn’t know what it was.” Love so goddamn big that it had swallowed him whole before he could even understand it.
Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, to his cheeks, his nose, and finally his lips. Steve had seen Bucky kiss so many gals; he’d always been handsy and forward, a rakish flirt. But he’d never seen him be this gentle, this reverent. It made Steve’s heart spread open in his chest like it up and sprouted wings, and he was suddenly so overwhelmed with affection, with love, that he had to take several shaky breaths to keep himself together.
Bucky finally leaned back and looked down at the water. “Starting to get cold.”
“Let’s get you washed then, yeah?” Steve grabbed the flannel and soap, dunking them both in the water to get a lather.
“You don’t have to,” Bucky said.
“I want to.” He trailed the soapy cloth along Bucky’s face and arms and chest, pulled him forward to wash his back and neck. He lifted each leg out of the water with a hand at his thigh to wash them, and when he looked down afterward, he saw that Bucky was aroused, his cock dark and flushed and full. “Oh.” He breathed deeply. “Is it okay to—” He stopped, his cheeks heating with sudden shyness.
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, biting his lip. So Steve slid the cloth down his stomach and curled it around his erection in the water, and Bucky’s resulting gasp sent a shiver down his spine. He did it again to elicit the same reaction, and heat curled in his belly in anticipation. But he was on a deadline with the cooling water so he quickly finished washing him and crossed the room for the towel while Bucky rinsed off the soap.
Steve dried him off, carefully dabbing at his tender areas, trading soft kisses whenever he could. When he finished, Bucky was shivering against the cool air. “Go sit by the fire; I’ll grab the first aid supplies.” But when he saw Bucky dragging the narrow wooden chair across the room, he shook his head and took it from him. “No, let’s—” He effortlessly grabbed the heavy feather mattress from the bed and placed it in front of the fire as though it weighed next to nothing.
“Christ, how strong are you now?” Bucky asked in awe.
“Uh, pretty strong,” he responded. He took off his boots and trousers, leaving his undershirt and drawers, and then motioned for Bucky to get down on the bed.
“Can I—” his eyes fell to Steve’s body. “I’d like to see you."
“Oh.” His stomach fluttered nervously because yeah, Bucky had seen him naked hundreds of times, but he’d never seen him like this. “Alright.” He finished undressing in a rush, closing his eyes to whatever Bucky’s reaction might’ve been. But he heard it just fine.
“Jesus,” he hissed. “Steve.” He heard Bucky step toward him and he finally opened his eyes to face him. “How?”
Steve shrugged. “Science? The future.”
“You look,” he licked his lips, his eyes roaming his body. “But,” his gaze met Steve’s, “you always looked — I wanted you real bad when you smaller.” He stepped even closer and placed his hands above Steve’s hips.” I used to wonder if my hands were big enough to span your waist. I wondered what your skin would feel like right here.” He rubbed his thumb against the divot of his hipbone.
“Bucky,” he whispered.
“And here,” he said, trailing down to grab Steve’s dick in his hand, giving it two slow tugs. Pleasure shot up his spine, and then Steve kissed him, their mouths opening to one another. He groaned when Bucky’s tongue licked across his bottom lip, and his arms came around Bucky’s sides, holding him gingerly.
“Please. Please, Steve,” Bucky gasped and Steve picked him up as carefully as he could, one hand around his back and the other under one thigh, and he knelt down onto the bed before settling him onto his lap.
They explored each other with mouths and hands, Steve’s gut fluttering with every whimper and groan from Bucky’s lips. But nothing compared to that soft sigh when Steve wrapped his big hand around both of their cocks, jerking them the way he did himself, hoping it was good enough.
Then Steve came with Bucky’s name on his lips and Bucky’s mouth at his neck. When Bucky followed him afterward, Steve laid him carefully against the mattress and drank in the sight of him, softly illuminated by the dancing flames.
Bucky looked up at him, his smile so gentle and true that Steve couldn’t help but match it.
“Angel,” Bucky sighed, and Steve blinked away the sudden tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. How could… Steve was just one man; how could one mortal soul hold so much within itself? He was so overwhelmed with emotions that he felt like he would burst at any moment.
But Steve reached forward and cupped his face, rubbing his thumb against his cheekbone, and Bucky melted into the touch. “I still need to patch you up,” he said quietly. “You distracted me.”
He shot Steve a sly grin and shrugged. “Worth it.”
The sun set outside, and Steve tended to his cuts and bruises with kisses and then ointment and bandages, lit only by the firelight. They ate a weak stew with crusty bread from downstairs and washed it down with a surprisingly hearty ale (“Christ, this shit’ll put hair on your chest”). They kissed so much that their mouths turned red and swollen, and Steve still felt like he couldn’t get enough, like there’d never be an end in sight for how much he wanted him.
And when they finally fell asleep next to the warm fire, yeah, the bed felt a little more snug than they were used to. But with their arms wrapped around each other, neither seemed to mind.