Her White Wolf

Chapter Seventeen

The flight to Wakanda was an easy one with the quinjet on autopilot. Steve sat back in the captain's chair, a little anxiety flaring in his belly. He didn't need to be nervous; he had no reason to be. He was going to see his best friend. He chalked it up to anticipation and as the jet began its landing sequence, he shot Bucky a text.

Steve: Landing now. I'll wait for you at the palace.

Bucky: I'll be there as soon as I can. It's about a fifteen-minute run.

James finished screwing in a bolt that would hold the swing on the front porch, pocketed his phone, then took off at a jog down the path. It was almost afternoon, and he was surprised Steve had flown in so quickly. When he reached the steps that would lead him up to the palace, James slowed to a walk to climb them.

Steve found himself in conversation with T'Challa as he stood at the door of the palace, hands in his pockets. It wasn't until he heard footsteps that he turned his attention down to the stairs. A smile broke onto his face, and he looked at his watch. "I think you're getting old. It shouldn't have taken you that long," he joked.

"I'm getting old?" James retorted. "What does that say about you then?" He smiled as he reached his best friend and wrapped one arm around his shoulders for a hug. "It's good to see you."

Steve hugged Bucky in return, chuckling softly. "Hey, I never said I wasn't old. I just said that you are." As the hug ended, he kept his hand on Bucky's shoulder, eyes turning down to see his new arm for the first time in person.

"Wow. Shuri outdid herself with this," he scoffed in awe.

James lifted his bare arm for Steve to see, silently thankful that he'd up on a tank top that morning. "She did," he agreed. "I like it a lot better than the old one, that's for sure."

"Doesn't have that ugly old star," Steve observed. He turned to quickly shake T'Challa's hand before he turned his full attention back to his best friend. "So, should we head to your house? Your new house?"

He smiled and nodded at Steve. "C'mon man, I think you'll like it."

Steve reached down to pick up the bag he'd packed for himself before he joined Bucky in descending the stairs. "Thanks for giving me something to do. You know I don't do well when I have too much time on my hands," he said as he glanced in Bucky's direction.

"Any time," James assured. "It's a nice place. Shuri has been helping replace the old tech in it and order the things that Cleo and I like."

Steve's signature genuine smile settled onto his features. "So, you're literally playing house?" he asked, a grin showing just a few of his straight, white teeth. "Wow, Buck... I'm just amazed. Look at you now."

James grinned as they walked, although the conversation from that morning mulled in his mind. "There's... something missing from it all though."

Furrowing his brows a little, he glanced at Bucky again. "What do you think it is?" he asked.

"Not what," he answered. "Who... which is you."

Steve's head cocked to the side; brows raised in question. "What do you mean?" he asked, angling his body so that he could face Bucky a little more. "I'm already in your life, Buck. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be around more."

James rubbed the back of his neck, now feeling overly anxious. Cleo would be better at this than me. "Do you remember... before the war?"

Steve dropped his eyes in thought as he nodded. Before the war. It took only a moment to think about that little apartment they'd shared. His steps slowed without realizing it and eventually he paused, a pang aching deep in his now healthy heart. It hadn't been back then. Brooklyn. "Yeah, I... I remember," he acknowledged, raising his head to look at Bucky again. "You remember?" Holy shit.