#userfrancas

Home has often been defined to where one lives. But what if home is a person and not a place?

Well, if you were to ask either James Buchanan Barnes or Steven Grant Rogers home would be defined as a person, and they would say the other.

Especially since after everything that’s happened, all the time that’s passed, they both find the feeling of finally being home once being reunited.

–

Bucky squinted through the dimly lit bar, a frown settling on his face as he was missing something. No, a someone. Rubbing his face as he took in a deep breath, he searches the faces around the bar for Steve. They’d only been there an hour or two, and he’d already lost his best pal, and their dates.

Well, losing their dates had gone hand in hand with losing Steve. Not every dame in New York was out to hurt Steve, but Bucky couldn’t blame him for being defensive. No one seemed to see the same golden sun he did.

Which was fine, Steve would be his and his alone.

Smacking his lips together as he continued to search, he nearly jumped at the poke to his ribs, a yelp rising out of him. Wrapping his arms around his torso, a glare forming as he turned towards the small blonde punk beside him.

He takes it back, Steve was more trouble than he was worth sometimes. Nah, that was a lie, there wasn’t anything Bucky wouldn’t do for the little punk.

“Hey, didn’t your ma ever tell you its not polite to go pokin’ people’s ribs like that?” Bucky mumbled as he eyed the blonde in front of him. Unlike him, Steve was still completely sober. Earning a chuckle for his weak attempts of a glare, Bucky finds a laugh bubbling out of him before he can stop it.

“Oh? She never told you? It’s okay if he’s a jerk and deserves it for draggin’ me out.” Steve rolled his eyes as he took a seat on a stool, waving for Bucky to take a seat as well.

Sighing as he took the seat next to him, Bucky knocked his shoulder against Steve’s. “Nah, but we both know well enough that she would have.” Bucky murmured, eyes falling to the bar’s smooth, wooden counter.

Hearing the uneven intake of breath next to him, Bucky reached out and gently took his hand, squeezing it in the slightest, but providing all the reassurance in the world. “She would have accepted us, y’know…” came the soft reply, the deeper meaning to what he had said moments before.

As much as Bucky never truly told Steve why he had planned the double dates, it didn’t take much hiding from him now just how much he loved the stubborn blonde by his side. No matter how many dates he set up, and usually failed, Bucky knew that Steve knew that there would be no room in his heart for anyone else but him.

Expression softening, glancing up and holding a teary eyed gaze with his own, a slight grin pulled up on his lips as he squeezed his hand once more before setting it on the bar. “I know she would’ve… Your ma was one helluva lady.”

Earning a nod in silence before the eye contact was broken, Bucky knew that there time out and about was done for the evening. Giving Steve a moment of privacy as he paid the tab, he returned to his side before walking them home. The moon over the Brooklyn streets guiding them home in the dead of night.

–

Bucky let out a loud groan as he entered their apartment. If there was one thing that drove Bucky mad, it was being alone with Sam. Throw that weird Peter kid, the one that talked to much, along with the one that could either grow tall or shrink small… Scott? Well, he couldn’t be bothered, today had been hell.

He get he could be a quiet guy, but that wasn’t a free invitation to have both his ears chewed off on either side, and then have Sam tease him for it.

Kicking off his shoes and entering the apartment further, Bucky noticed that most of the lights were off and only the moonlight filtered in from the door to the balcony, noticing it was unlocked. Eyebrows furrowing, he glanced down the hall to find no lights on and all was quiet. “Steve?” Waiting for an answer, but receiving none, Bucky went to the door to lock it.

However as soon as he approached the door, his heart immediately fell to the ground at the sight before him.

Steve was curled up against the railing, his sketchbook clutched to his chest, a tremble running through him as he struggled to catch his breath.

Concern flowing through him, he opened the door softly and joined him outside, squatting in front of him. Cupping the side of his face, gently coaxing him to look up, all it took was once glimpse at his sketchbook to see what had set him off. It was a picture of Sarah, her radiant smile and kind eyes, the warmth she gave off caught in the drawing. There wasn’t a day that went by that Bucky didn’t miss her either.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Opening his arms up to him, Steve let himself be held as he continued to cry, tears streaming down his face and reflecting the light of the moon off his soft face. Taking a seat and pulling Steve against him, Bucky held him close, running his hands through his hair as he murmured sweet nothings into golden tufts of hair.

Continuing to do so until he felt breathing evening out in his arms, he glances down to have blue eyes looking back up at him, a flush already hinting at his cheeks. Knowing what was about to happen, Bucky shook his head and held him closer. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.” Hearing him pipe up to do just that, Bucky shoots him a look that shuts him up. Waiting and not hearing another peep from him, Bucky nods and releases him from his arms. Rising to his feet abruptly, watching the confusion spreading across Steve’s face, he says nothing beyond, “stay,” before heading back inside.

He was on a mission, and wouldn’t stop until Steve knew he was loved, and knew it was okay to feel goddamnit.

Wasting no time, and heading back out the door in seven minutes flat, Bucky walks back out into the cool night air and drops the armful of blankets and couch cushions onto the ground in front of Steve. “We, Steve, are going to put these cushions together like when we were kids,” already setting to work on making a makeshift bed, he doesn’t wait for Steve to help. In fact, by the time he’s done, Steve hasn’t moved from where he was sitting, and when he looks up, he finds more tears waiting for him. “You don’t have to get by on your own,” reaching out and pulling Steve forward, he presses their foreheads together, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I’m with you ‘til the end of of the line, pal.”

Letting Steve fall into another mess of tears and feelings, Bucky sprawls out on the cushions and pulls Steve close, throwing a blanket over them. Staying up until he hears the even breathing settle above him, Bucky presses a kiss to golden hair, letting Steve just sleep. “You’re never alone, Stevie… You’re one helluva guy.”

Drifting off to sleep himself, Bucky pulls Steve closer and holds him close. The moonlight shining over them just like many nights before, and promising to keep them safe. They were finally home once more, as long as they were together.