“Okay. I should go now.” Bucky looked up from his mug of coffee, observing sleepily as Steve finished putting on his shoes and patted his pockets for what Bucky was sure was the twentieth time, probably checking once again to make sure he had his essentials.
He felt his lips curve into a fond smile as he silently slipped off his stool and padded towards the other man, sliding his arms around Steve’s warm body. He leaned up, pecking Steve’s lips softly and squeezing his tiny waist.
“Have a nice day at work, honey.”
Bucky received a bashful grin at that, unable to help himself from chuckling a little as his eyes roamed the flawless face in front of him.
July 4th, 2015.
His chiseled best friend and lover was officially ninety seven years of age, though he of course was still frozen in a constant youthfulness of mid-twenties that neither of them tried to think about much.
It was Steve’s birthday, but also Independence Day, which meant that Bucky more or less had to share him with the good ol’ US of A. Some things never changed.