Chapter Text
‘Why does this feel wrong? It’s not like she’s kissing poorly. Her plump lips feel good touching my own, so why does something feel amiss? My eyes are open, hers aren’t. Do I usually focus on watching my partner kiss? I’m pretty sure I don’t. What’s different?’
…
“Arthur!” Bucky gasped, breaking the kiss. That’s why kissing this woman – however beautiful she may be – felt incomplete.
“What?” the woman asked in confusion.
Bucky didn’t care about her, he left her standing there in a daze and started marching towards where Steve had stood at the bar. When he looked in the direction he was going in though, he noticed that Steve was already wading through the mass of people towards him. What worried Bucky however was that Steve’s expression wasn’t his cheery self. Bucky was about to ask what was wrong, but Steve went first. Instead of just saying it though, he bend over and whispered loudly in Bucky’s ear.
“Arthur was just here to tell us he was approved of by the medical board. He was on his way to you to tell you when that woman kissed you. He saw and scurried off… He wasn’t looking too good,” Steve whispered.
“Why didn’t you stop him?!” Bucky yelled angrily, louder than he should’ve.
A few people surrounding them looked at them oddly. Bucky held up his hand in an apologetic manner as he almost ran to the door. Once outside he realized that the sun had set. That, paired with people being advised to block all lights from going outside meant that it was pitch dark outside. The door opened again behind him and when Bucky turned around he saw Steve standing there.
“Where’d he go?” Bucky demanded to know.
“I have no idea, Buck.”
“FUCK!” Bucky screamed; probably once again way louder than he should’ve, but he didn’t care.
Steve was clearly equally distraught, since he didn’t even point out Bucky’s foul language. Why did Arthur have to arrive not just when Bucky was dancing with that woman, but exactly when she kissed him? There’s no way that was coincidental. It’s almost like the gods were personally interfering, ruining his chance at happiness.
“If he did go somewhere, it’s probably Howard’s place or our apartment,” Steve said, trying to rationalize the situation.
“Ours makes the most sense, no? Maybe he caught a ride with someone? We’re heading over there first,” Bucky decided.
Steve didn’t argue, simply accepted the command. Bucky needed to talk to Arthur, preferably as soon as possible. Bucky tried running as fast as he could, Steve easily keeping up with his pace besides him. When they ran past the first side street, Bucky stopped. What if Rob went by foot? What if he lost his way? Steve apparently thought of the same thing, since he voiced Bucky’s thoughts.
“I’ll check them. Ever since the serum, my vision has gotten way better.”
But even with Steve dashing into different smaller streets on their way home, they didn’t come across Arthur. When they arrived at their apartment, the both of them rushed upstairs. Arthur’s room turned out to be empty however, just like the rest of the apartment.
“Should we wait here? Or go check with Howard? It’s possible we missed him on our way here,” Bucky rambled.
“I still think the chances are highest that he would come here. Howard was supposed to meet us at the bar, I don’t think Arthur would want to be a burden.” Bucky was about to comment on that last statement, but Steve quickly corrected himself. “I know he’s not a burden. Just saying he’d probably see it like that.”
Bucky nodded reluctantly. Unfortunately, Steve was right. Arthur’s self-confidence was rather lacking at times.
“Then I stay here and you go check with Howard. You’re faster anyways and it’s rather far from here, no?” Bucky asked. He thought he’d heard Steve mention something like that, but hadn’t been to Howard’s himself yet, so he didn’t know for sure.
“If he’s there, I’ll call you!” Steve yelled out, already half out the door.
Once he was out, Bucky was alone with his thoughts. They’d kept screaming at him on their way home, but he had muffled their screams by drowning them in adrenaline. Now that there was nothing he could do but wait however, they resurfaced.
‘Why did Arthur get upset? If he had a problem with me kissing someone else, then why didn’t he want me to kiss him? More than that, after I did, he didn’t even want to talk to me. He avoided me at every turn.’
Another train of thought countered his own arguments. ‘But then why did he meet the deadline you gave him? Maybe he was just too occupied with meeting your deadline that he didn’t have time for anything else.’
‘Couldn’t he have done more to let me know then? Surely he must’ve known I’d have the impression he wasn’t interested. He left with a message that he was sorry and then went to see General Bradley. It’s not too far-fetched to think he wanted to be relocated then, right? Especially not if he stays with Stark the night after. All without ever letting either Steve or myself know anything!’
His mind kept firing back and forth between the two stances. It didn’t help Bucky get a clear idea of which side was right. What did become clear is that nothing was clear. Nothing except that even before he knew that Arthur had seen everything, the kiss with the woman from the bar had felt wrong.
Not because she kissed poorly, but because she wasn’t whom he desired. His body needed it to be Arthur instead of whatever-her-name-was. Lost in his own mind, almost half an hour had passed before the telephone rang. Bucky had been waiting next to it, so he grabbed it after the first ring.
“You found him?” Bucky asked, not waiting to hear who it was. There was only one person he was expecting a call from, after all.
“Not exactly. He’s at the police office near our place, he got mugged. They’re holding him there until someone verifies his identity,” Steve said. Bucky had heard enough.
“I’m going,” he said, already ready to slam down the telephone. He was glad he didn’t just yet, because Steve quickly added, “Bring clothes!” before Bucky slammed the telephone down.
The police office was just two streets away, so Bucky would get there way faster than the others. Meaning Arthur had been close by their home when he got assaulted. Bucky rushed inside Arthur’s room and grabbed underwear, pants, a shirt, a sweater and a pair of socks and shoes. He desperately hoped the first wouldn’t be necessary, that the robbers had allowed Arthur to keep his dignity, if nothing else. While storming through the living room, he saw the blankets on the couch and picked one up before continuing his sprint through the dark streets to the police station.
On his way over, he couldn’t help but remind himself that it was his fault Arthur had gotten mugged. When he entered the building, his eyes had to adjust for a few moments to the bright lights inside. Once he was able to see clearly, he went over to the counter. There was a man in his fifties reading a paper sitting behind it. Bucky coughed to get the man’s attention.
“I’m Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. I was told Doctor Arthur Peters was brought in?” Bucky asked, as politely as he could. He knew from experiences with Steve that police officers could make situations a whole lot more troublesome if they thought you didn’t respect them enough.
“Well, he claims to be. But I’ll be honest, he doesn’t look much like a doctor to me.”
Bucky bit his tongue to prevent himself from lashing out; he had to stay calm, Arthur needed him to. The officer came from behind his desk, which revealed that he didn’t do much besides sitting behind it all day. His beer belly was testament to his dedication to stay seated most of the time. As Bucky followed the man’s agonizing slow pace, his theory was proven right by the stank of alcohol that hung around the man. Bucky was aghast when he realized that they were walking towards the holding cells.
“You’re keeping him in a cell?” Bucky asked.
“I doubt he’ll be your guy anyways. He isn’t doing much but crying,” the officer said.
Bucky both wanted and didn’t want it to be Arthur by now. What he was sure he wanted to do, was bashing this guy’s head in if it was Arthur. When the officer stopped at one of the cells, Bucky had to look a bit inside the darker room before he spotted the inmate. Soft wallowing helped Bucky locate him though. In the left corner, he saw Arthur huddled up, clamping his arms over his bent knees. Only the brown mop of hair and body proportions were enough for Bucky to recognize his friend. What angered Bucky more than just seeing the other crying in a cell, was his wardrobe; or more accurate, his lack thereof.
“YOU DIDN’T GIVE HIM TEMPORARY CLOTHING? YOU WANT HIM TO FREEZE TO DEATH? YOU MORON!” Bucky yelled.
He’d had it with the old fart. He pushed him to the wall, pulled the keys out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. For all he cared, the man could hit his head and die. Bucky slammed the keys inside the keyhole and opened the door, rushing to embrace Arthur. The other’s body felt cold to the touch.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” Bucky said softly.
Arthur slowly got his head out of where it was stuck between his arms. When he met Bucky’s eyes, he let loose a sob that seemed to loosen up some dried up snot. He started muttering, but Bucky had no idea what the other was saying, no words sounding English. There was only one intelligible word that Bucky caught, getting repeated over and over again every few sentences.
“Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s get you out of here and go home, okay?” Bucky said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.
Arthur didn’t exactly react verbally, but did make a sound that seemed agreeable enough. He also clamped his arms around Bucky’s neck and nestled himself there. Bucky laid his own right arm across Arthur’s naked back, reaffirming the hold. His left hand was still holding the clothes and blanket he’d brought for the doctor.
“I have some of your clothes with me. I’ll give you a minute to dress and then we can leave,” Bucky whispered to the other. He turned around to give the other some privacy, but felt the other grab him. He looked at Arthur and saw him shaking his head in the negative.
“No? No clothes?” Bucky asked in bewilderment.
“Don’t leave, please.” The amount of vulnerability in Arthur’s voice was heart-breaking. Bucky shushed the other instantly.
“It’s okay. I won’t. I’ll stay here with you, okay? Do… do you want me to help?” Bucky asked, unsure of what to do.
Arthur nodded against his chest. Bucky wrenched himself from the loose hold Arthur had on him, to the other’s displeasure. Once again Bucky shushed him and carefully helped the other in some pants. When he moved on to the t-shirt however, he saw something that made his anger flare up again. At the curvature of the other’s neck was a smear of dried blood. He looked closer and saw a cut at the middle of it.
“What happened?” Bucky asked.
His volume had been raised due to his anger at the situation, but the mess that Arthur currently was, didn’t react well to that. He shrank in on himself, shaking his head. The flow of tears that had seemed to have slowed down, picked up again. The same stuttering, strange sounding apologies with sorry mixed into them restarted.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry for shouting,” Bucky whispered.
Bucky had no idea what had happened, but he was starting to paint a picture. He cursed his own imagination, because he could vividly picture a frightened Arthur getting cornered in a dark dead alley. How he’d begged for mercy, but instead got a threatening knife to his neck. How they’d demanded all his belongings in exchange for his life. How that had included all of his clothes, leaving him in his briefs. Arthur was still shaking where he stood. Bucky shot to his aid and helped him dress, piece by piece, avoiding putting too much pressure on the body that stood frail on its legs.
“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked.
Arthur didn’t react, but kept shaking like a leaf. Bucky cursed himself for asking such a moronic question. ‘How is he feeling? Really? You can’t tell? Moron!’
Bucky draped the blanket over the other’s shoulders, in the hope it would help him get a bit warmer. Figuring he couldn’t do much more here, he carefully took Arthur’s hand and started walking slowly. He was glad to notice that Arthur seemed to follow his steps, if slowly with his eyes focused on his own feet.
Bucky looked in front of him and found the police officer standing there. The old man was visibly angry and holding the door of the cell in his right hand. As Bucky took a step closer, the evil grin on the fat face grew wider. With yet another step closer, the fat officer slammed the door closed with a bang, before locking it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Bucky asked. This man was pushing all his buttons.
“There’s no way a brute like you could be a sergeant. I’ll have you locked up for impersonation of a military officer,” the obese man said. He looked gleeful at managing to think of that claim.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bucky said. Reluctantly, he let go of Arthur’s hand – which was accompanied by a soft whine – and took his dog tags from around his neck. He then dumbly presented them to the moronic officer. “As you can see, I’m Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Or can you not read? That would explain some things.”
What Bucky hadn’t seen coming was the officer snatching away his dog tags. “Not just impersonating I see, you even stole his dog tags. What a reprehensible act. You’re the worst kind of criminal,” the man said before walking away.
“HOLD UP! WAIT NO! THAT’S MINE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Bucky yelled angrily after the man.
Not that it mattered, since the man didn’t even acknowledge him anymore. Bucky cursed the man under his breath. When he turned around he saw that Arthur was still standing still like a statue. His glazed over eyes staring into nothingness. Bucky walked over and slightly bent through his knees so he was on eye level.
“It’s going to be okay, Steve knows I’m here. He should be here any minute now,” Bucky spoke softly to Arthur.
It seemed successful, since Arthur’s eyes focused once again. He made eye contact and Bucky noticed fresh tears welling up. Bucky felt helpless, it was as if nothing he said could pull Arthur out of the void of sadness he seemed to be in. If words couldn’t do the job, then maybe actions could. Bucky put his arms in an embrace around the doctor and squeezed. It took a minute for the stiffened position of Arthur to relax, but it did, ever so slightly. Arthur returned the hug and let out a snort that sounded like it might contain some snot. Bucky didn’t mind.
“I’m so sorry.”
The apology was unnecessary, but it delighted Bucky. Not because of the apology itself, but because Arthur was finally speaking English again. That should be a good sign.
“What even for? You have nothing to be sorry for? I doubt you wanted this imbecile to lock us up,” Bucky chuckled. There was enough sadness in the room, he had to at least try counteract it with some laughter.
“No, but I…” Bucky listened attentively, trying to decipher the muttered words. “I… I ruined your date,” Arthur sobbed out.
“My date?” Bucky was confused for a second until he pieced it together. “You mean my dance with Emily?” Bucky felt the other stiffen at the name and deduced that that was indeed the cause. “That wasn’t a date. She asked me to dance, I agreed and then she decided to kiss me while we were dancing. I didn’t like it.”
“You… you didn’t?” Arthur asked on a barely audible volume level. Bucky felt himself smile lightly at how hopeful the other sounded – even through all the dried up tears and snot – while asking that question. It was clear his current state made it so Arthur was wearing his heart on his sleeve.
“I did not,” Bucky stated. He wanted to make that point really clear to Arthur. He may not have any real experience with romantic relations with men, aside from some loose sexual interactions, but this felt incredibly obvious. “But I did learn something. Do you want to know what?,” Bucky added.
Arthur didn’t react for what felt like the longest time. Bucky waited patiently though, not willing to push the other. He’d gone through enough today. If Arthur wanted to leave it at this, Bucky would. When Arthur finally very slowly nodded, Bucky gently grabbed Arthur’s chin with his hand. He then gently lifted the other’s head until they were looking at each other. This was something Bucky had to tell face to face after all.
“At that moment I wished I was kissing you instead of her. I think I might have fallen for you,” Bucky whispered.
Even in the barely illuminated cell, Bucky could see Arthur’s hazel eyes being devoured by his enlarging pupils. The bewilderment stuck on his face for a good few seconds, before the corners of his mouth slightly lifted up by a timid smile. Then he let out a sobbed sigh, took his own right hand to wipe some of his tears away before steadying his voice.
“I… I still have quite a bit of explaining to do, but I like you too… romantically,” Arthur said.
Bucky had hoped so, had felt that that was the case but he’d still been slightly unsure because of Arthur’s previous reaction to Bucky wanting to kiss him. Right now, however, his heart was threatening to beat its way out of his chest, brimming from happiness. He embraced the other, lifted him up and happily swung him a full circle before setting him down.
When Arthur was once again standing on his own feet, he looked up and Bucky could see it in the other’s eyes. Almost as if it was written in the black of his pupils. Bucky was hesitant to comply with the written wish however. Last time hadn’t exactly turned out well. But every muscle in his body was telling him it was the right thing to do. Demanded it like the oxygen they needed.
“Can I –”
“Kiss me!” Arthur interrupted his question.
That more than answered Bucky’s question. He easily complied, slightly tilting his head and pressing his own lips against Arthur’s. The moment they connected, Bucky felt it in his core. Happiness. Warmth. Love. Arthur’s lips were plump yet sturdy, if not a bit salty from dried tears. Even then, they were the perfect bed for Bucky’s lips to rest. What was even better than the feeling of the other’s lips against his own was the soft moan Arthur let escape when Bucky started deepening the kiss. Of course, good things couldn’t last long. A door, the one leading to the holding cells, slammed open.
“BUCKY?!”
Bucky stopped this kiss with a sigh and gave Arthur a regretful smile before he reacted to his best friend’s call. “Yes, Steve. We’re here!”
Sure enough, Steve stood outside their cell a second later. He spent a few seconds switching his gaze from Arthur to Bucky before he got a sly grin on his face. “I see you two made out – excuse me, I mean – made up with each other. A slip of the tongue, as they say,” Steve said.
“As funny as you are, care to get us out of here?” Bucky asked.
Steve put his hand in his pocket and grabbed the keys out. When Steve opened the door, Bucky started walking, but felt himself being held back. Arthur was holding his hand and squeezed when Bucky was apparently walking too fast. He slowed his pace down and noticed that Arthur was shuffling closely behind him. The man even slightly jumped when Steve addressed him.
“Arthur, are you okay?”
The doctor sobbed quietly before shaking his head. “No, I want to go home.”
By now, they had arrived in the entrance hall of the police station, where Peggy and Howard were waiting for them. Howard noticed them first and came over immediately. Peggy was still busy cussing out the police officer and joined them a bit later. Bucky noticed how Arthur shuffled a bit more behind him, as if hiding from the others, so he took the initiative.
“Arthur’s a little overwhelmed from everything. I know you’re worried, but he needs to sleep it off first,” Bucky said. He was grateful when he noticed that the others understood and backed off a bit, giving Arthur more space.
“I can drive you guys,” Howard offered. Everyone knew it was only two streets, but didn’t want Arthur to have to walk again at the moment. Home, as quickly as possible; that was their mission.
“Steve and I will be staying here a bit longer. We still have someone who needs to get fired,” Peggy stated. Bucky loved how the police officer cowered behind the counter at that.
“Oh right, that reminds me,” Bucky said. He strode over to the desk, shortly leaving Arthur behind. It hurt his heart when he heard Arthur whimper the second he let go of the other’s hand. Bucky quickly walked behind the office, saw what he was looking for and grabbed them. “My dog tags, he’d stolen them!”
Bucky rushed back over to Arthur, who was standing like a lost lamb in front of the door. Instead of putting the dog tags back, he bend through his knees in front of Arthur and sought out eye contact. When the hazel eyes met his grey ones, he whispered to the other in a soft tone. “Can you take care of these for me?”
Hesitantly but more convinced than Bucky had seen Arthur tonight, the man nodded – steel confidence overtaking his wet pupils. Bucky put them over the other’s head and Arthur immediately clutched them in his right hand. Since Arthur’s right hand was now occupied, Bucky grabbed his left and started slowly walking outside; making sure that his pace wasn’t too fast for Arthur.
The two of them then hurried back home with Howard as their personal chauffeur. The ride home was short and silent. It was obvious to all that Arthur had hit his limit. He just needed to be dropped off in bed. When they got to the apartment, Bucky picked the man up bride style. As he slammed the car door closed, he yelled at Howard.
“We’ll see you tomorrow!”
Not waiting on a reaction, Bucky started carrying Arthur him upstairs. In a swift movement, he hurried on to Arthur’s bed and gently placed him on it. After everything that happened, he was not going to undress the other man. Surely sleeping in clothes wouldn’t be the worst thing; they did so often on the frontlines. What Arthur needed now was sleep, more than anything else.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Catch some shut-eye, okay?” Bucky softly whispered to the man.
As he turned around to return to his own room, a whine came from Arthur’s throat. When Bucky heard the noise, he turned back and focused all his attention on the other.
“What is it? Do you need some water? Something to eat?”
Arthur shook his head. “Don’t leave. Please.”
The vulnerability of Arthur’s voice made his heartstrings ache. They pulled him back to the other, sitting down at his side. Surprisingly quickly, Arthur grabbed one of Bucky’s hands with his own. Then he placed the hand on his own chest and started softly rubbing his fingers over it. It was clear to Bucky that Arthur was just reminding himself that he wasn’t alone; that there was someone there for him.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not leaving,” Bucky whispered. “I’ll be with you the entire night, okay?”
Arthur softly nodded his head, his eyes wide open, looking into Bucky’s to see whether he was telling the truth. Apparently he could read that Bucky was completely truthful, since a hesitant smile was minorly present on his tear stricken face. Bucky lifted himself out of the bed – followed by a soft whine from Arthur and a reassurance from Bucky – and undressed himself. Then he pulled the covers from underneath Arthur’s body and slid into bed, pulling the covers over the both of them. After Bucky settled the other in his arms, he slowly moved to drop a kiss to Arthur’s head.
“Sweet dreams, Arthur.”