Till the End of the Line: Our Beginning | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: Just want to make a quick apology for the state this chapters in. I wanted to write it, but I wasn't feeling it. It's kind of rushed and went in a completely different direction than I wanted it to. Sorry about that. I'll probably end up rewriting it, to be honest. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and/or will stick around to see what's to come. The 40's are coming up next chapter, which means the storyline becomes a bit more familiar and the chapters get longer. I'm really excited about it. Anyways, enjoy chapter eleven!

~ J xx

Chapter Eleven

1939

Bucky took a drag from his cigarette, head ducked as he braved the brisk wind on his way home. It was freezing and he'd worked all day in the unforgiving, freezing February weather. Yeah sure, it was better than the month before now that the rain had eased up, but that didn't mean he wasn't freezing constantly.

He held the small cigarette between his lips, greedily accepting the warmth that came with each drag he took. Bucky walked down the street, boots falling heavy against the sidewalk. By the time he made it to their street, he was still trying to finish his smoke. Bucky walked on the opposite side, hoping to gain just a little longer (enough to finish, but not enough to keep him out in the cold - and away from Steve - for too long).

It was when he was about two doors down from the building across from there's that he looked up fully, cigarette dangling precariously. That's when he noticed Steve sitting on the steps to their building, hunched over his lap with his knees drawn up. His small, bony hand was moving and his head would move every now and then, revealing the old tattered sketchbook he'd just about filled. The book itself was filled, but Steve didn't like to waste anything, so he drew in every open page and tucked away any drawing he doodled on scrap paper between the leather bindings. Every time Bucky mentioned getting a new one, he'd tell him "it's not full yet, Buck. It ain't full until the thing won't close anymore. Then I'll get a new one. No use in wasting good, hard earned money that could have bought our meals on a new sketchbook that'll entertain me on rainy days, when this one's still got some life in it."

That didn't stop Bucky from buying Steve a new one. He was planning on giving it to him for Valentine's Day, a brand new leather bound book for him to sketch his heart out into. (Okay, it may also be for himself, but only because he absolutely adores Steve's talent and watching Steve draw and seeing what the boy comes up with. Any chance he got, he'd watch Steve sketch or glance through the old, tattered book - or even the ones from when they were kids - until Steve got all flustered and embarrassed from his compliments. It's his favorite thing in the world, other than Steve himself. If indulging in his selfish ways makes Steve happy too, then sue him.)

Bucky leaned against a light post, directly across from the steps, and watched as Steve sketched. His eyes were drawn to the way Steve's hair fell over his eyes, to those flushed cheeks, to his teeth chewing on his plump, bright red bottom lip (he could practically see his teeth chattering from here). But his heart practically burst when he saw the man he's in love with look over to some skinny kid sitting beside him. The kid was animatedly talking to Steve, pointing at the drawing and waving his hands around. Steve met him with the same enthusiasm (he seemed to be teaching him how to draw) and a big, goofy smile.

He watched the two interact until all that was left of his cigarette was ash. With a shiver and a sigh, Bucky jogged across the street. "You gotta be careful with your shading. It can really make or break your picture. It won't necessarily ruin it, but if you're going for a light-hearted easy feel and you've got heavy shading throughout, it could throw off your tone. Get what I'm saying?" Steve said, pointing to something with his pencil. The kid nodded, taking the pencil and drawing whatever he was supposed to. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a deep, quiet breath, completely content to watch Steve's interaction.