Steve remembered the scribbles of stick figures throughout Bucky's notebooks while they had still been studying in art school together, of his insistence that they were high art all without losing the grin on his face or the air of suggestion that had colored his scribbles each time they had gotten a seat in classes sketching or painting from live models. Just as he remembered the other man's insistence that no, Steve Rogers was going to be the best thing since Picasso and anyone who didn't see that was blind. Or how he'd tell girls exactly that in what little Steve had overheard of his buddy's habit of talking him up to girls who hadn't given him a second look once they'd been presented with him live and in the flesh.
It was hard not to remember how easy it had always been between them, even when they'd been quarreling over one thing or another (usually over how Steve himself threw himself into the fray before thinking). Not when he stood facing a man who was equal parts his best friend and someone else entirely. Not when he could remember so well who it had been who had insisted on scrounging him up soup from somewhere on those long, bitter winters when Steve had doubted in some moments that he'd make it through.
Bucky had never given up on him, and he would not, could not give up on Barnes.
He wanted to ask what the other man thought when he was handed back the notebook, but felt frozen, half-buckled under the weight of wanting to keep from pushing too hard and scaring the man off. As he wanted to apologize for what he was sure was his part in what had happened to his brother in all but blood, but bit his tongue hard to keep the words at bay.
Instead he chose a line of conversation one more neutral, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be hungry, would you? Because I could use a bite."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-05-12 03:35 am (UTC)It was hard not to remember how easy it had always been between them, even when they'd been quarreling over one thing or another (usually over how Steve himself threw himself into the fray before thinking). Not when he stood facing a man who was equal parts his best friend and someone else entirely. Not when he could remember so well who it had been who had insisted on scrounging him up soup from somewhere on those long, bitter winters when Steve had doubted in some moments that he'd make it through.
Bucky had never given up on him, and he would not, could not give up on Barnes.
He wanted to ask what the other man thought when he was handed back the notebook, but felt frozen, half-buckled under the weight of wanting to keep from pushing too hard and scaring the man off. As he wanted to apologize for what he was sure was his part in what had happened to his brother in all but blood, but bit his tongue hard to keep the words at bay.
Instead he chose a line of conversation one more neutral, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be hungry, would you? Because I could use a bite."