Who Am I? » [Stucky]

71. Inquiring Minds

Upon New Year's Day Bucky and Steve took a casual wander down to central park, a brown Wicca picnic hamper accompanying them, swinging loosely in Steve's free hand, and a checked red and white blanket to lie upon folded up in a square beneath Bucky's metal arm, the corners flapping as the breeze tentatively toyed with it.

Their hands were linked trustingly. Bucky had positioned himself cunningly to the left of Steve so he could use his real hand to hold Steve's hand as usual and their arms swung liberally as they took a gander, fingers playfully slotted together, mingling and rubbing up against each other affectionately.

The snow had cleared up completely, leaving the city damp and soggy, some tiny traces of the snow remained, tufts on the sidewalk where there had originally been mountains of snow cleared from the road and trickling streams down gutters. The first sun of the year had blessed them with an appearance. It was admittedly icy cold sun, but it was a gorgeous day, bright. The air felt fresher than usual, cool and inviting on their exposed skin and a small amount of mist lingered about the grass, a wispy cloud of white looming between the blades of grass.

"You look gorgeous today," Bucky told Steve in all confidence, smiling up at him peacefully, still tired from the late night and his eyelids drooping slightly more than usual. He rubbed a circle across the back of Steve's knuckles with his thumb.

Bucky threw out the picnic blanket, being gently jostled by the wind flowing through the park, letting the air catch beneath it and fall at a pace like a parachute. Placing down the basket with a quiet creak as the woven twigs settled and reformed into shape on the ground, the pair dropped down on top of the sheet covering the damp grass and cuddled up to each other.

Steve crossed his legs comfortably, trying to reign in his long limbs, and placed his palms flat on the mucky dewed grass behind him. Bucky lay across him, his head balanced on one of Steve's thighs, his body outstretched across the picnic blanket, but his dirtied, mud splattered boots remained off the mostly clean material, his legs bent at the knee so his feet were flat against the ground over the edge.

"I can't believe it's a new year," Bucky sighed in disbelief, gazing up at Steve, squinting slightly, trying to make out his shadowy silhouetted face against the blinding backdrop of the white sun forming a halo around his head.

"A new year to spend together," Steve promised him, running a hand through Bucky's shaggy tousled hair, a still slightly matted bed-head do; for once he hadn't bothered with pulling his strands meticulously into place. He had been encouraged by Steve that it was 'cute'.

"A new year, hopefully not filled with Hydra," he solemnly admitted.

"Don't even say that... You don't want to jinx it." Steve prodded his shoulder firmly with a slender digit, making a point of digging it into his muscled torso and twisting it.

Bucky flinched and jerked away instinctively, tickled at the pressure point, trying to keep the giggling smile on his face at bay.

"Touch wood," Bucky joked, grinning broadly, reaching up and around and giving Steve a quick grope, squeezing between his legs.

"Bucky!" Steve complained, swatting his cheeky straying hand away with a pitiful slap and then stroking his cheek to try and make up for the play-violence.

Bucky winked presumptuously, a casual sly self-satisfied grin tugging at one corner of his beautiful mouth and he bit his lip impertinently, his insolent quick tongue briefly flicking out and laving at his lip just to taunt him.

"Stop biting that lip or I'll have to bite it for you, Mister," Steve uttered suggestively, his voice deepening deliciously as he formulated the seductive notion.