[Steve was on his heels the second after he stopped grinning hopelessly back at Bucky, just glad. Impossibly and simply. It had to be a good quarter of a mile to catch up and the driver was indulgent once he caught Bucky waving and Steve's shout which he did with no catch or wheeze to his breath. He didn't falter the whole short run and he was dazed about it as they shoved the coins into the slots for their fare and clamored back to take one of the benches. His mind kept trying to create the usual stitch to his side that came with pushing too hard but there were no nerves yelling in protests, just his pulse beating steady and strong in time with his heart -- and Bucky's.
The driver had scolded at them both, indulgent approval in his eyes as he looked over the both of them.
He sat down heavily, shouldering off the bag and putting it on his lap. There were a dozen or so scents surrounding them -- splashes of aftershave, the soap from clothing, warm human skin and the remaining traces that had sunk into the fabric of the seats. Bucky's was bright in a way that he could tell meant he was happy as much as the thump of his heart did. Steve drew in a shaky breath, smiling to himself and then over at his best friend.
His pack.
Though he knew the ride back home wasn't a short trip, it felt quick. The bus was filled with the quiet lull of people trying to catch a quick nap on the way in or rustling the morning's paper -- which, Steve realized he could read just fine even someone was four seats up. He would be a shoe in at the docks, no question. With two wages like that coming in, they'd be more than okay for however long they needed it.
Steve leaned in, bumping his shoulder against Bucky's while leaving the outside of their thighs pressed close.]
Thanks, Buck.
[For trying. Believing in him. For risking all of it, though the odds were stacked pretty much the other way and there'd been literally his life tossed down in the gamble. They rumble back into the city with all it's sounds and pretty much every garbage heap from here to the Hudson stuck in his nose but he's still walking on the cloud of his change and their night's run. Getting back to the flat is a relief, doubled by being able to avoid running into anyone they really knew. Steve tossed down his bag on flat of their makeshift table and cut immediately for the chipped mirror they had hanging up.]
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The driver had scolded at them both, indulgent approval in his eyes as he looked over the both of them.
He sat down heavily, shouldering off the bag and putting it on his lap. There were a dozen or so scents surrounding them -- splashes of aftershave, the soap from clothing, warm human skin and the remaining traces that had sunk into the fabric of the seats. Bucky's was bright in a way that he could tell meant he was happy as much as the thump of his heart did. Steve drew in a shaky breath, smiling to himself and then over at his best friend.
His pack.
Though he knew the ride back home wasn't a short trip, it felt quick. The bus was filled with the quiet lull of people trying to catch a quick nap on the way in or rustling the morning's paper -- which, Steve realized he could read just fine even someone was four seats up. He would be a shoe in at the docks, no question. With two wages like that coming in, they'd be more than okay for however long they needed it.
Steve leaned in, bumping his shoulder against Bucky's while leaving the outside of their thighs pressed close.]
Thanks, Buck.
[For trying. Believing in him. For risking all of it, though the odds were stacked pretty much the other way and there'd been literally his life tossed down in the gamble. They rumble back into the city with all it's sounds and pretty much every garbage heap from here to the Hudson stuck in his nose but he's still walking on the cloud of his change and their night's run. Getting back to the flat is a relief, doubled by being able to avoid running into anyone they really knew. Steve tossed down his bag on flat of their makeshift table and cut immediately for the chipped mirror they had hanging up.]