True North [Stucky Fanfiction - IN PROGRESS]

13 - Brunch

Carefully, Steve cuts one slice. Two, three, four, delicately cutting out the core of the apple and laying them aside on the cutting board. After he's done, he rinses off the knife and checks the toaster. The bread is a light golden brown and he flicks the lever upward, drawing it out of the machine so he can deposit it on the plate. He takes the turkey, apple bits, cheese, and adds a spread of honey along the inside of the bread slices before combining them all into a few different sandwiches. He sets each sandwich on a plate before cutting them in half diagonally, brushing crumbs off of his hands into the sink.

"Perfect timing," he says, spotting Bucky as he walks in. He pulls out a stool that lines the marble countertop and sets the plate down, motioning for his friend to take a break and eat. "Glad you're feeling better. Having any problems with those sutures?"

"No," Bucky responds. He still holds his flesh arm gingerly to where the stitches cross his abdomen and walks somewhat stiffly, but he doesn't wince as he does it, so Steve takes that as a good sign.

Steve motions to the sandwiches. "Feel free to take one. I was starving after watching the interview, plus we're still in a brunch limbo, so I made a couple."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Brunch limbo...?"

"Halfway between breakfast and lunch," Steve explains quickly, a little bit of heat rising to his cheeks. "Sorry, that was a term I got used to in the 21st century. Brunch. I should've explained it — "

"Steve," Bucky says breathily, a smile twitching on his face as though he was thinking about laughing. "You're fine. You explained it already, so don't worry about it." He grabs a plate and eyes the contents of the sandwich before crossing to the other side of the counter to take a seat. Steve faces him, taking a large bite of his own sandwich and watching him curiously.

"Do you always go the full-body blush thing?" Bucky asks innocently. Steve nearly chokes on an apple slice. Glancing down at his hands, he sees that they are indeed turning a significant shade of pink, and if the warm sensation in his face and neck is any indicator, Bucky is probably right. If anything, this just makes him blush more, and he takes another awkward bite of his sandwich to cover it up.

Bucky smirks again. God, that look. The way he's casually leaning against the countertop, sandwich in hand with his hair swinging gently as he moves his head... it sends an emotion running through Steve that he hasn't felt in a long time.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Bucky starts, although he's still grinning like an idiot. "It's kind of cute, actually."

Steve blinks. "Cute?"

"Yeah, but... not like that. It just makes you look good, is all. Any girl would be happy to have a man like you."

At this, Bucky glances back down at his plate, that look of suave romantic genius gone. He takes another bite of his sandwich.

Steve isn't really sure what to make of this whole conversation.

"Ну дерьмо," Bucky curses under his breath. The pair descends into an awkward silence. Steve desperately begs his body to return to a normal color hopefully before he finishes his sandwich so he can pretend like Bucky calling him cute wasn't both the best thing that's happened to him since 1934.

"You're not so bad yourself," Steve adds quietly, face still red and the sandwich way too small to hide it. However, the comment makes Bucky glances up from his plate to stare at Steve in surprise. Instantly, Steve feels like the frail kid still living in Brooklyn, too many emotions coursing through him when Bucky would pull him closer to his side, or when Bucky would bail him out of fights, or when Bucky would rest a soft hand on Steve's knee whenever he patched him up. It was easier to ignore the signs that his friend showed. When he was younger, he was adamant that their relationship had to be platonic because as hard as Bucky fought for him, he wouldn't put him in danger by making others think he was queer. In that time, Steve got beaten up for being too skinny and too sick; to be pegged as a pansy would mean lethal beatings from more than just schoolyard jerks. The neighborhood would be against them, and that would have been more than Bucky could handle on his own.

But now is a different story. People are more accepting now. Steve had done a double-take the first time he saw two men snuggled close on a bench in Central Park, fingers interlaced and smiling happily. Sometime while he was in the ice, public romantic display between two people of the same gender became accepted. Steve wasn't afraid of being on the receiving end of someone else's attacks just for who he was anymore. Bucky might not remember him, but Steve remembers everything. It's a fresh start for both of them.

Steve sends Bucky a quirky smile that actually makes his friend laugh for the first time since he's arrived. A warm feeling fills his chest. His fantasies as a kid might not be so far fetched.

"Eat your sandwich and quit flirting with me, Rogers," Bucky says, still grinning. "I gotta get my memories back and then we'll see where this goes."

"It's a deal, Barnes. Don't think you can get out so easily." Steve winks and takes another bite of his sandwich, setting the plate in the sink and walking out of the room with a newfound bounce in his step.