relenafanel:

Bucky: Sometimes I look at you and want you so
badly I forget

Bucky: I forget that we’ve been friends for
over a decade

Bucky: I forget why it’s a bad idea

Bucky: All I think about is touching you and
how you’d taste and that we’re probably perfect for each other

Bucky: I forget to forget

x.x.x.

Bucky woke up to the
sun shining in through a crack in his closed curtains and hitting his eyes dead
on.  He groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, and rolled over so his
face was smooshed into his pillow.  His mouth was dry and tasted like
fermented things, and his head hurt from drinking too much the night before.

He tried to focus on
when he’d finally left the bar and wandered home, but all he could remember was
the string of texts he’d sent Steve and he ended up pushing himself up into a
sitting position so fast he experienced a dizzy moment of vertigo.

He might puke and not
from the hangover.

His phone was plugged
into the charger right where he always left it, looking innocuous and not like
it had betrayed the secret he’d managed to keep for the last five years.
 Tentatively he reached out and picked it up, pressing the button to turn
on the lockscreen.

Steve: WHAT

Well, Bucky thought,
maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.  Maybe he hadn’t sent everything he
thought he sent.  Steve was likely to all-caps WHAT to Bucky for half of
his drunk texts, mostly because Bucky got philosophical and started quoting
obscure Aristotelian theories to him.  Bucky liked to joke he was smarter
while drunk while Steve rolled his eyes and told him that maybe if he stopped
underrepresenting his own intelligence all the time it wouldn’t seem that way.

Well, Bucky thought a little hysterically
as he stared at the chain of texts he’d sent Steve the night before, where
was all that intelligence now?

Fuck.  He was so
stupid.

He closed his eyes
for a moment and tried not to think about his whole world caving in.
 Yeah.

It was somehow worse
that Steve had sent WHAT more than half an hour before and then hadn’t followed
it up with anything.  Somehow, Bucky had almost expected to wake up to a
confession in return, or at least something more definitive.  

Fuck. He scrubbed his
hand over his face. This was the worst.  Now he had to decide whether to
make the brave move again and he wasn’t drunk this time to make it seem
like a good idea.

He was just
considering the merits of haha yeah you’re hot :p but idk what I drank last
night to encourage this VS. I meant every word when someone
unlocked the door to his apartment.

Bucky was holding his
phone and staring at his bedroom door with a wide-eyed sort of panic when Steve
burst into it.

“WHAT?” he said in
person, staring at Bucky and sweating a little like he’d run up all four
flights of stairs to Bucky’s apartment after speed-walking over.

Bucky stared at him
and then wordlessly held up his phone.

Steve stared back.

“Did you drunk
confess to me?” Steve asked, sounding a bit strangled.

“I’m not going to
sober confess it to you,” Bucky pointed out, wry and vaguely annoyed that Steve
came over for this conversation so he had to actually look at him.  Steve
was way too polite and gentlemanly and well raised. He needed to get with the
generation who texted this type of shit like Bucky had, apparently.  

“Why not?”

“Why?  That’s
not the type of thing you tell your best friend.  Oh hey Steve so
sometimes I don’t think of you platonically, so now you’re going to feel weird
around me when we cuddle on the couch during movies and shift away from
potential boners.”

“Try this: Oh hey
Bucky, maybe I wouldn’t shift away from them if I knew they existed!”

“WHAT?”

“EXACTLY,” Steve
yelled back, looking way too smug and vindicated for this moment. What an
asshole.

“I… what?” Bucky
repeated.  He stared at Steve silently for a few moments. The moment was
ladened.  “Are we going to make out now?”

“It smells like beer
sweats and regret in here,” Steve pointed out, wrinkling his nose.  “I’m
going to go home and get ready for work and you’re going back to sleep.
 Then you’re going to shower and come over for a movie tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Bring your potential
boners,” Steve said as a parting shot as he walked out of the bedroom.

Yeah, like Bucky was
going to sleep after that.