Stucky oneshots ♾

Stevie gets drunk

Preserum

March 10th, 1938. The day James Buchanan Barnes turned 21. He was now allowed to drink (although he had done that before), go in bars, anything he wanted. Although all he wanted to do on his birthday was stay at home with Steve, his tiny best friend (who wasn't yet 20) , although he was insisting that he go out and have fun.

'Bucky, c'mon. You only turn 21 once! Do you really want to tell people that all you did was stay at home and drink watered down juice?'

'I'd rather do that than go for drinks with the idiots I work with. Have you seen them? They're all the exact type of people you'd hate.'

'It's not like I'll even be there, I don't think it matters whether I hate them or if I'm in love with them.'

This conversation had been going on for the last week, everyday the same words being repeated over and over. Bucky suggested that he buy drinks and bring them back to the apartment, but Steve argued that they really couldn't spare the money, and guilted Bucky in the process ('Having those beefcake colleagues of yours buy you a drink would let me still have money to buy medicine, Buck. You want me to die?') .

Even though Steve was adamant that Bucky would go out without him, Bucky had a different plan. He told his coworkers that he wasn't feeling too well, and he was going to skip out on drinks. He then casually mentioned that paying for medicine might be a bit hard for him, to which one of them piped up: 'That's ok, Buck! We'll give you some cash. It's your birthday, after all.'

So that evening, with money in his pocket, he walked to the nearest store and bought some drinks for him and Steve. He felt proud showing his I.D. that now proved he was of age.

When he was walking back to their shared apartment, he stored the alcohol in his bag. He knew from seeing it too many times that carrying something like that openly would only result in mugging. He let out a small laugh. Steve would always go crazy when they saw someone get mugged, shouting every profanity he could think of at the mugger and trying to chase after them. He hadn't managed to catch up to one so far.

A few minutes later, he was on the rusty stairs that led to their crappy apartment. He groaned as he remembered that his key was under the drinks in his bag. Too lazy to open it, he knocked on the door. 'Steve? Let me in. It's me.'

He heard some shuffling behind the door, then it opened to reveal a small, slightly bony face over a foot below his own. 'Don't you have your own key, Mr Barnes?'

Bucky chuckled. Steve had been calling him "Mr Barnes" all day, because of his now adult status. He promised to do it on Steve's own 21st birthday, in a little over a year.

Steve stepped aside to let him into the apartment. Bucky noticed a page ripped from a sketchbook on the table, and Steve must've seen him looking at it, because he ran over and hid it behind him.

'What was that, Stevie? Looked like a portrait.'

'Well, I can't exactly afford a present, so I'm working on something for you.'

Bucky smiled fondly at Steve. The boy rarely bought things that weren't bare minimum apart from sketchbooks, as he felt he was spending money he shouldn't. For that he was extremely grateful, it meant they had a slight savings for whenever Steve's illnesses had a flair up. And really, he valued anything that Steve made over something store bought. He may be small and sick, but damn, his artworks were something else.

'Well, I got you a surprise as well. And don't worry, I didn't spend our money on these...' he trailed off and opened his bag to reveal the alcohol. Steve's eyes widened. 'Buck, you didn't. Did you steal these?'

The taller boys face turned deep red. 'No, I would never! I told the guys at work that I wouldn't make it to drinks, and they gave me some money... to make up for it. I swear, Steve.'

Steve nodded. 'In that case, let's eat dinner then have a little to drink.'

Bucky fake gasped. 'A little? Hell no, we are getting wasted.'

Steve shook his head. 'Bucky, I'm not getting wasted. I'll have one drink.'

— Two hours later —

'BUCKY! I can see sounds!'

Bucky shook his head. Steve had had two drinks, and even that had been enough to make him flat out drunk. He approached Steve a little cautiously. 'Come in Steve, I think you should maybe put that cup down now, ok? I won't make you go to bed, but please, just don't drink anymore.'

Steve stared suspiciously at his friend before putting the cup down, then lifting himself with a struggle into the table. 'You're taking care of me.'

Bucky laughed. 'That's what I do, Steve. For your whole life.'

Steve sniffed. 'No. You like me. I'm your friend. Friend.' He said the last word with obvious annoyance.

'Best friends, Stevie. I'm with you 'till the end of the line, pal.'

'Isn't it funny.' Steve spoke, slurring slightly. 'That "I'm with you 'till the end of the line" almost sounds like wedding vows? Almost think you wanted to spend your life with me.'

'That would be fun, Steve, but I doubt our wives would like us all living together.'

'Wives. Ha. Are you really that dumb?'

Bucky smirked at the small boy. 'You planning in staying a bachelor for life? I doubt it, with the way the dames are all over you.'

Steve groaned then made a sound that was almost a giggle. 'You look very pretty in this light, Buck. I can see why all the girls want you. Can see why I want you.'

Bucky shook his head. 'You're very drunk, Steve. I think it is time for bed now.'

Steve looked at Bucky and wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky flushed red. 'Steve, not like that. Go sober up, you twit.'

He made Steve take a shower, but he did end up joining Steve in his bed anyway. It was still one of the coldest months of the year, and he knew better than to let Steve freeze alone. He lay behind the blonde (big spoon style), but after a few minutes, he felt a sharp kick in his knees as Steve turned to face him.

'You do look pretty, Buck. I like how you've let your hair grow a bit. And your eyes. And everything about you.' He closed his eyes and rested his head in Bucky's chest, and was asleep in a few seconds. Bucky was a little shocked at first, but then bent his head down and kissed Steve's forehead.

'Sleep well, punk.'

———

The next morning, Bucky woke up surprised to find an empty spot on the bed next to him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and heard a clattering from the kitchen.

He walked out to see a hungover Steve hovering over a piece of paper, which Bucky recognised as the one that had been in the table to day before. Steve looked up and smiled groggily at Bucky. 'I forgot to give you your present last night! Look, I just finished it, I hope it's ok...'

Bucky stood next to him and studied the portrait. His face was etched in the paper, the detail perfect, the background he recognised to be a small harbour where Steve and Bucky would sometime walk on days when Steve was healthy enough. It was beautiful.

He turned it Steve, a broad smile on his face. 'I love it, Steve. It's perfect.' He pulled the boy into a hug, inhaling the scent of his hair, memorising how it felt to have his hands in his back. But after a few seconds he pulled back.

Steve cleared his throat. 'About last night. I remember it all. And I meant it.'

Bucky grinned even wider and pressed his lips to Steve's. After pulling back, he whispered in his ear: 'I'm glad.'

Yeesh cheesy ending I'm sorry. Chapters will get fluffier from now in I promise next one they will be together from the start so expect more fluff.