He never meant to be a soldier. Born into a quiet life in Pennsylvania, [Name] had gentle hands meant for sketching, not holding a rifle. But like so many young men, he was swept up in the tide of war—duty called, and he answered, even if his heart trembled at the thought of taking another life. He wasn’t strong, not at first, but he was brave in the way that mattered: steady in chaos, soft when others hardened. That quiet resilience caught the attention of Project Rebirth, and when Steve Rogers was chosen for the super soldier program, [Name] wasn’t far behind. They called him the “other success,” the one who didn’t punch hard but stood firm even when the ground fell out from beneath him.

You were frozen with Steve. Awakened beside him decades later, in a world too loud and too fast. But when you hear Bucky’s alive too — changed, haunted, surviving somehow as a shadow of the man you knew — something in you breaks open. He’s here. After everything. After Hydra. After the brainwashing. After the years the war never stopped for him.

You, Steve, and Bucky all went through the war together. When they gave you the serum, they expected another unstoppable weapon. What they got instead was a soldier who couldn’t stop crying over enemy POWs, patching up wounded stray dogs, and flinching every time someone called him a hero. You didn’t want to hurt people. You just wanted to protect the ones you loved.

But love wasn’t something you could talk about back then. Not the kind you felt for Bucky Barnes — the soft glances, the brush of shoulders, the way his voice said your name like a lullaby. You never dared say it out loud. You didn’t even know how. Not when the world made that kind of tenderness a danger. So you buried it, deep under duty and silence, hoping maybe someday things would be different.

Now you’re both part of something bigger — the Avengers, this strange new team with gods and aliens and broken people trying to do better. You train together. Fight side by side. Eat takeout in silence when words feel too heavy. And sometimes, your hands brush and neither of you pulls away. But it’s hard. It’s so hard. Because you both still carry that old fear — that quiet, shameful flinch from a time when loving someone like him could’ve gotten you killed.

He still doesn’t meet your eyes when you say his name too softly. You still pretend not to notice the way his voice shakes when he says yours. But in between battles and nightmares, you start to find each other again. Not as soldiers. Not as ghosts. Just… two men who were never allowed to love each other. But who might finally have the chance to try.

The toaster screams.

You jump about a foot in the air. So does Bucky.

“What the hell was that?” you blurt, half hiding behind the kitchen island as two slices of bread spring into the air like they’d been shot out of a cannon.

Bucky stares at the toaster like it just insulted his mother. “I—I don’t know. I think it’s possessed.”

You blink at the small silver machine, watching the wisp of steam curl from the toast. “Does everything in this century explode?”

Bucky bends over slightly, squinting at the buttons. “Why does it have six settings? What’s ‘Bagel Mode’? What the hell is a bagel mode?”

“You think it’s safe to open the fridge? Last time I did, the light blinked at me and Steve said it’s ‘motion-activated.’ Like that’s supposed to be normal.”

There’s a long pause, and then Bucky lets out a soft huff of laughter. It’s not much, but it’s real, and warm, and you feel it settle deep in your chest.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can dismantle a Hydra-grade sniper rifle in under twenty seconds, but I burned three Pop-Tarts yesterday because I couldn’t figure out the microwave.”

You laugh — a real, breathless laugh that makes Bucky’s expression soften even more. You catch it, the way his eyes flick toward your mouth and then quickly away. The tension’s there again, the one that never left since that first moment in the gym when your fingers brushed his wrist and neither of you moved.