Seventy years later
"Steve?"
Steve looked up from his spot on the couch where he was reading a book. Bucky stood in the doorway to Steve's bedroom. He was clutching something in his right hand. His human hand.
"Bucky, were you just in my room?" Steve asked, closing the book and setting it down.
Bucky looked embarrassed. "I accidentally put in one of my shirts with your laundry. I went to get it."
Steve almost smiled. Nick Fury was still trying to find a safe place for Bucky to live, so Steve had jumped at the chance for Bucky to stay with him for the time being. He couldn't say he didn't enjoy it.
"And then I knocked a box over by accident. By accident," Bucky continued, walking over to the couch and sitting next to Steve. "And...this fell out of it." Bucky held out his hand and opened it.
A pair of scratched, worn dog tags, in relatively good condition for being seventy years old.
Steve swallowed. A lump was forming in his throat. "Yeah. Those...those are yours."
Bucky stared at them. "Barnes, James." He looked up at Steve. "That's me."
Steve nodded. "That's you. James Buchanan Barnes."
"And you kept them? Ever since I...fell?"
"It was the only piece I had left of you."
Bucky looked at the tags again. "James Barnes..." he mumbled. Then, louder, he said, "Steven."
"What?"
"Steven. I don't know why, but that name's been in my head ever since I started getting my memory back."
Steve's heart began to pound.
James. The name floated to the front of Steve's mind. He pushed it back, with some difficulty.
"That's the name of your soul mate," Steve said quietly. He looked down at his hands. "Everyone is born knowing their soul mate's name."
Bucky was silent for a second. "What about you?" he asked. "What's your soul mate's name?"
After a few moments of hesitation, Steve whispered, "James." He kept looking down, avoiding Bucky's gaze.
Finally he braved a glance up at Bucky. He was staring intently at Steve, like he was suddenly seeing him in a whole new light.
"My soul mate's name is Steven," Bucky said slowly. "And yours is James."
Steve nodded, his heart pounding. He was aware of Bucky's every movement; his fingers tapping against the couch cushion, his body moving slightly closer to Steve's.
"Are we soul mates?"
"I, uh—what?" Steve stuttered. "I mean—I—I don't know—"
"Then we should find out." Bucky cupped his hand, his human hand, on the back of Steve's neck, and kissed him.
Steve's brain short-circuited. He forgot his name, he forgot where he was, he forgot what year it was. All he knew was the feeling of Bucky's lips against his, and he never wanted to let go. Not again.
Bucky was the first to pull away. One look at his wild eyes said that he'd felt the same thing Steve had. He was breathing heavy, like he'd just run a marathon.
Steve pulled Bucky back into another kiss. They were already experts on each other's lips. Steve tangled his hands in Bucky's long hair. His whole body ached for Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, and he thought he would never get enough.
"Yes," Steve breathed in Bucky's ear. "I think we are soul mates."
