Who Am I? » [Stucky]

73. Reality

Steve slammed the dainty wooden door with an earth-shattering thwack, nearly yanking the secured handle out of the damaged woodwork as he flung it viciously shut. Bucky jolted as the sound snapped through the flat and sprinted to their bedroom on the double.

Steve was perched on the end of the bed, hunched over with his whole body shaking as he sobbed, heaving in hacking wracking gasps for breath and his hands covering his face. He was relentlessly sobbing his pained heart out, sparkling tears pouring from his woeful wide eyes like a waterfall of glistening beads, tracing shining lines onto his face. A tangled mess of tears tumbled down his pasty ivory cheeks, drowning his perfect features. His eyes were already brutally red from the crying, the surrounding sockets of his azure eyes tinged an inflamed and painful colour; the veins were pressed to the surface of his eyeballs, straining.

His sobbing was obtrusive, oblivious to the blubbering noise he was making.

"Steve..." Bucky cooed in a hushed voice, rushing in in a whirlwind, stirring the air in his wake. He dropped into a low squat before Steve, laying Steve's hands in his palm and immediately beginning to console him. "Hey... It's alright..."

"No!" Steve stammered, "It's not alright!" He cried in a staggered voice, his words nearly drowned out by the sniffling and whining gushing out of his throat.

"Steve... This was always going to happen, it was only a matter of time," Bucky reasonably whispered to him, gazing up at his shock stunned boyfriend who was crying a river. He gently caressed the back of Steve's hand, rubbing obscured cursive shapes and figures into the backs of his hands, brushing the back of his knuckles to soothe him, to try and ease him.

"It doesn't make it any easier," he wheezed in a weak voice, weepily looking down at Bucky with glassy tearful eyes, the surface shining with the tears gathered and then dripping onto his face, some small jewel like beads catching in his long curved lashes like a webbed net.

"Steve... You don't need to be ashamed of this," he reassured him. "It's not the forties anymore, you're not gonna get beat up, or cast out of society, or go to hell because you're in love with a guy."

"I'm not ready for the whole world to know!" He whined, shakily drawing the back of his hand across his face to wipe his nose.

"Why not? Steve, we've been together for just over six months, all your close friends and colleagues know, what difference does it make that we're public now?" Bucky tried his best to give Steve a shot of realism, trying to give him an objective point of view and allow him to take a realistic stance on the matter.

"I'm... I'm just not ready... I mean, I don't even know what my sexuality is-"

"What?!" Bucky spluttered incredulously, his face contorting. His brow creased, he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny and his top lip rose in a movement of disgust and disagreement. "Steve, I'm pretty sure-"

"I mean, I love you, and I've never been so in love with anyone in my life. There is so much more than physical attraction with you... I-I Just have this... This link with you, this bond that I don't have with anyone else. I mean, I love our nights, when you kiss me... But I'm in love with your personality, and you, not just your body, Bucky... There's not a trace of doubt in my mind that I am completely in love with you... But I see women... And I still think... They're really pretty, and beautiful, and I find myself sometimes looking them up and down like I look at you..."

Bucky's heart seemed to implode, clenching and stuttering in his chest. It felt like someone had wrapped their fingers around his heart and had squeezed the frail and vital organ until it had burst. He felt a pain rupture his chest and his whole body burned cold with bitterness. His head fell into Steve's lap.