the story won’t lie down, won’t stay told (слэш)

Steve looks at him like he knows Bucky means something he won’t say, and then he takes two steps toward their building. He’s been walking next to Bucky for nearly an hour now, face familiar in the growing darkness, in assorted shades of shadow. Bucky would know Steve anywhere, but when he shakes a rueful head at Bucky the glow of the streetlight catches him just right, color warm against his chapped cheeks and snow-littered hair. He looks, just for a moment, like a fallen angel. Like a tiny king.
(Warnings for: canonical character death, depictions of PTSD.)