The streets of Brooklyn always felt a little smaller when Bucky was walking beside me. Maybe it was due to Bucky’s laugh that easily filled the air, or maybe it was something different... something harder to name. Hard because he made the rest of the world seem to blur and quiet down, like everything didn’t matter as long as we were together.

We’d been friends for as long as either of us could remember. Memories of scraped knees, schoolyard brawls, sneaking off to cheap movie serials when homework was calling. Back then, I hadn’t thought too much about why Bucky’s hand would linger on my shoulder just a little too long, or why my heart would trip in my chest when the brunette grinned at me like I was the only person who mattered. I told myself it was just friendship. Boys didn’t think about other boys like that, right? Except maybe I did.

Lately, though, something unspoken had settled between us, thick and heavy like the summer air. I felt it in the way Bucky’s gaze lingered a little too long when he thought I wouldn’t notice. I felt it in myself too, in the way I clung to those brief touches, when Bucky’s arm brushed against mine, when his laugh rumbled low in his chest and pulled something dangerous to the surface.

I kept telling myself these feelings weren’t real. There was no way... But right now, when we sat on the stoop of Bucky’s apartment, he looked at me like he knew. Like he’d known for a long time.

Bucky’s shoulder pressed against mine, warm and steady, like it always had. We were quiet, like we both knew there was something unspoken between us.

Another minute passed, and then Bucky spoke up. “I’ve been thinkin’... there’s stuff I can’t say to anyone else. Not even Steve.”

Hearing that made my heart beat fast in my chest. I turned to look at Bucky, whose jaw was tight, fingers twisting absently in the fabric of his trousers.

Bucky met my eyes then, really met them, like he was searching for something buried deep. “You told me I can tell you anything... But even if it’s... even if it’s not the kinda thing people like to hear?”

My throat went dry. I knew. But hearing Bucky bring it this close, made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t ready for. Bucky could already tell what the look on my face meant: Maybe you shouldn’t say it.

Bucky’s mouth lifted in a sad sort of smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but maybe I should.” And then, carefully, “It’s not just me, is it? I know you feel it too.”

I wanted to deny it. Wanted to pull back, shove it into some dark corner where it could stay safe and secret. But sitting here, with Bucky’s shoulder against mine, with the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of us, it was hard to lie.