Times like these, he wish he could get drunk.
Because it hurts, it rips his heart to shred to see the unfolding scene in front of his eyes.
Isn’t it such a cruel joke that, when he finally got his best friend – and lover for a too brief of time – back in his life after losing him to death and then to Hydra, he is the one thing Bucky’s brain refused to remember?
Bucky knows him, know who he is, know that they were once the best of friends and know that it was Steve’s presence that brought him back from the abyss that is Hydra’s brainwash.
But he remember nothing further. All he knows about Steven Grant Rogers now are information supplied by history book and Steve’s own shaky recount. Shaky, because Steve doesn’t know which memories are safe for Bucky, and have no idea how to frame them without triggering that puzzled look in those blue eyes.
Because this Bucky have no recollection of ever being in love with him, have no idea that they once dream of the day when they could walk hand in hand out in the open, and cannot even begin to fathom how much his presence alone soothe the ache in Steve’s soul.
Because this Bucky is in love with Natasha Romanoff. This Bucky remember her as the only source of happiness in those bleak times of captivity, his body keeps the muscle memory of stolen dances and hasty kisses, and his heart beats for the redhead.
And it hurts. Nothing had ever left him this sore and bruised, it drowns him in pain and bring him down to his knees, and it’s the cruellest torture that he would never be able to escape from.
Who would have thought that all it takes to break Steve Rogers is one exchange of loving glances between his two best friends?
That, and being erased from the life of the only person he ever love like he never meant anything at all.
À la mort,
Prompt: Shawn Mendes’ Stitches.
“Tripping over myself, aching, begging you to come back. And now that I’m without your kisses, I’ll be needing stitches.”