Title: almost like a fairy tale ending
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers
Length: 1,363 words
Rating: Teen
Warnings: no major warnings apply
Written for: fan_flashworks Challenge #364 "Black and White" and genprompt_bingo "fairy tales and folklore"
Notes: NOT Infinity War or Endgame compliant!
Summary: Steve brings home sweets and a little trip down memory lane.



Bucky stood at the window watching the falling snow turn the city into a winter wonderland. Steve was out there somewhere. He'd been gone by the time Bucky had opened his eyes. For a few tragic minutes, he'd wondered if Steve had been real or part of some fever dream. He got out of bed, walked around their home, and ran his fingers over Steve's belongings, all neat and tidy in their correct places. Steve's nicer clothes hung in the closet next to Bucky's one suit. The rest of their clothes were neatly folded away into drawers in the dresser they shared. Steve's sketchbook lay open on the coffee table next to a box of charcoal and pencils, and the book Bucky had been reading the night before.

It still didn't feel real. This life. This fairytale ending they'd been given. That they'd fought for.

There was someone coming up the stairs. He could hear whoever it was headed to their door. Bucky's muscles tensed; a knife appeared suddenly in his metal hand. The sound of keys jingling, along with Steve's whistling made him pause. He put the knife away. He even managed to get something resembling a smile pasted on his face by the time Steve breached the threshold, his arms filled with boxes. Light pink and wrapped in twine in a very particular way, these boxes tugged at the strands of Bucky's memory.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Steve wiped his shoes on the welcome mat and stepped into the kitchen. He set three large boxes down on the counter and unpacked five smaller boxes from the bags. There was something familiar about the fancy letter B emblazoned on the boxes.

"Is that what I think it is?" Bucky said.

Steve planted a quick kiss on Bucky's lips, removed his jacket, and hung it up on the hook by the door. "Remember that little bakery on the corner next to the fancy laundry place?"

Bucky brushed the snow out of Steve's hair. "I remember. We used to spend more time outside looking through the window than inside the actual bakery, but whenever we had the extra scratch, we'd treat ourselves."

"And when we did, what were our favorite cookies to splurge on?" Steve asked.

"No way. The black-and-whites?" Bucky had always loved how fancy they looked with black icing on one half and white on the other. Like they were wearing miniature tuxedos or something.

"I saw them in the window and knew I had to bring some home." Steve opened one of the small boxes and held it out to Bucky. "The girl, Mrs. B's great-granddaughter, believe it or not -- insisted that I couldn't leave with just one box of cookies. She made me take a sampling of every cookie, several slices of cake, and a couple loaves of bread."

"Mrs. B's great-granddaughter? No shit?" Bucky picked one of the black-and-white cookies and held it in his hand reverently.

"There's even a framed photograph of us on the wall," Steve said.

"One of those old newspaper clippings?" Bucky asked. A lot of people seemed to have saved those ancient things. It was odd that so many people had turned relics of their old lives into collectible memorabilia.

"Nope. A real honest to God photograph." Steve bit into one of the cookies, closed his eyes and smiled.

Bucky watched Steve savor his cookie. He loved these little moments of joy and clung to them fiercely. "What was the photo from?" Bucky asked.

"Remember that time when Mrs. B let us clean up around her shop for as many day-olds as we could carry?"

Bucky laughed. "How could I forget that? That woman seriously underestimated our stubbornness - and the number of baked goods two young kids could carry."

"I think we cleared out all the day-olds that day." Steve grinned.

Bucky shook his head. "It's hard to believe we were ever so young."

"You're telling me. You're gonna have to come down and see the photograph. It's amazing."

Bucky leaned back against the refrigerator and looked down at his cookie. "Who took it?"

"One of Mrs. B's girls, Elizabeth. Her granddaughter runs the shop now."

"She went by Betty, right?"

Steve nodded.

"She carried that camera around everywhere she went." Bucky tilted his head. "She was cute."

"You thought they were all the girls were cute."

Bucky shrugged. It hadn't just been the girls he had eyes for. "Not as cute as you."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Flatterer."

Bucky winked at Steve and for a moment he felt like the young man he used to be. It hurt. The thought of what would happen to that kid. What he'd grow up to be. What he'd do --

"It's a good picture," Steve said, interrupting Bucky's spiraling thoughts.

Bucky looked up. He still hadn't eaten his cookie. "Yeah?"

"You've got your arm around my shoulder, and I've got my hand in your back pocket." Steve had a wistful look on his face. "And by some miracle, we're both smiling at the same time."

The memory of that day came flooding back. The smell of fresh-baked bread on a chilly Autumn afternoon. Mrs. B had been in such a good mood, that she'd let them mop the shop floor for the promise of barely stale treats. Betty had asked them to pose for the camera. Steve had blushed and flashed her his best smile because she'd asked the both of them and not just Bucky.

Bucky had slung his arm around little Stevie's shoulder, trying to pretend that he didn't want to wrap both arms around him and kiss him something fierce. It hadn't been the first time Bucky wanted to kiss Steve. But it was the first time he'd been tempted to do it in front of someone else. Betty was sweet, but he has no idea what she would have thought about that. He wondered what her granddaughter would think of him and Steve. Bucky looked at the cookie, closed his eyes, and took a bite. "Mmm..." He opened his eyes. "They taste the same," Bucky said.

"She uses the family recipe," Steve said.

"I'll have to go down and check the place out." Bucky didn't leave the apartment often. Checking out one of their old haunts might be worth the trouble though, especially if there were cookies involved.

"Yeah, you will."

"It's nice to see that some things endured." Bucky pulled Steve towards him.

Steve stepped closer. "Like us?"

"Yeah, like us." Bucky kissed Steve - deeply - passionately - and damn, it still amazed him that he got to do this all the time. Not just in stolen moments when they hoped no one was watching. After all the years and everything else between them, it was a miracle that Steve still wanted to be with him. Bucky would be eternally grateful for that. He remembered the rest of the cookie still in his hand and popped it into his mouth.

Steve brushed the hair out of Bucky's face. "Did you want to see what else I got?"

Bucky grinned. "You know I do."

Steve blushed. "From the bakery."

"Sure, I'm interested in that too. Let's see what you got?"

Apparently, Steve had gotten like half the bakery packed into pretty little boxes. "Hungry?" Bucky asked.

"She insisted. She wouldn't even take my money, I had to sneak it into the tip jar."

There were a lot of people in this city who didn't think Captain America should be paying for his own food. Steve spent a lot of time sneaking cash into tip jars.

Bucky looked through the various goodies. Their younger selves would have been amazed at this decadent haul. Some were familiar. Others were new, a least to him. All of it looked and smelled delicious. He grabbed another black-and-white from its box and took a bite. He was glad that the old bakery was still around. He was even more glad that it was run by the same family. Maybe fairy tale endings weren't so bad. Even if he didn't believe he deserved one, Steve sure did, and who was he to stand in the way of Captain America's fairy tale ending?