Work Text
The Good Get Going
Same as any morning, Steve’s back gives a loud, painful crack when he rolls out of bed. And just like every morning, Steve cusses up a storm under his breath right before he goes shuffling out towards the other room. Since it’s his day off, Bucky's giving himself the best gift of all: sleeping in. So, rolling over, Bucky buries his face into the pillow, maybe buy himself a couple more minutes’ sleep……only to end up with every single reminder of last night coming to roost.With a gasp, Bucky jolts awake. “Holy hell!” Everything hits home. He’s sore all over. Starting from his ass right down to the teeth marks blossoming against his shoulder like a brand, and finishing with the wetness inside him that Bucky can still feel with every shift. Might as well have it all in lights; yeah, pal, you did that, and yeah, Steve Rogers was here. Gingerly, Bucky rolls onto his back and rubs at his eyes. Fooling around with Steve seemed like a great idea, when the evening pressed close like there wasn’t anything worth a damn thing outside of the two of them. The whole thing seemed like a fever dream.Now Bucky blinks against the harsh light streaming in. Facing it in the morning, with the honking of horns and bells from the traffic outside, as the world carries on? Just drives in it’s real. He’d looked at a fire and decided hell, why not stick his hand in. Was it worth it?Well... depends on if Steve starts looking at him funny after this, treats him differently. It’s not like Steve’ll kick him to the curb or something. He just isn't that kinda guy. But now Steve knows that maybe Bucky liked getting fucked into the mattress by another man a little too much, gave it up a little too easily. And that’s not even getting to the part where the other fella’s his best friend.It’s not the first time Bucky’s ever slept with someone, but it sure as hell feels like it for some reason.
Now Bucky’s never once backed down from trouble. Didn't matter what it was. Maybe Steve didn’t know when to pick his battles, but Bucky’s more than willing to finish every single one. He’s gone up against all kinds of goons bailing Steve out, some twice his size or when they brought friends, and it never occurred to Bucky to turn tail.All it takes is Steve’s back to him, cream undershirt clinging to his skinny chest, head bent as he doodles something in the margins of this morning’s newspaper, and Bucky almost turns on his heel.“Coffee’s fresh,” Steve says without looking up. “We're almost out though.”His folks didn’t raise him for a coward though, so Bucky beelines for the extra coffee Steve always leaves out; mostly because it buys him some time before he faces Steve and also because he’s got no clue what to say in the first place.Whenever things fall silent, it’s mostly easy. Now it prickles all over his skin when Bucky pours himself a cup before joining Steve, even as he tries not to think about how that stupid undershirt of Steve's looks painted on him, or how his teeth worry at his plush lips when he’s figuring out a pose.“Look, Steve.” Bucky starts.Steve glances up, mouth full of toast. “Yeah?”Bucky’s nerves bail on him right then. So what comes out instead is; “Don’t worry about grabbing more coffee. I’ll pick it up after work.”“Sure, that’d be great. I got a late meeting anyway, but it might lead to more work. Maybe,” Steve says and goes back to sopping up the last square of toast like he’s trying to drown it in egg yolk. The little guy looks so goddamn normal despite last night, that if it weren’t for Steve’s teeth marks throbbing under Bucky’s shirt, you’d start wondering if maybe it was all a dream or something. “So these guys looking at your work… your boss know them or something?”Steve brightens; if there’s something that’ll get his mind off the war for even a sec, it’s art. “Turns out his son-in-law got promoted, and his company’s looking to bring in more ad spreads. And they already know I’m fast so Mr. Astor put in a word for me.”“Shouldn’t be that tough, right? I mean, I figure the hardest part's learning how to draw and paint.” “I should practice anyway… then again, it’s not like I got as much competition these days…”Which is something they better steer clear of, especially after Steve’s 4F, and the fight, so Bucky cuts in before the mood sours. “You’ll knock ‘em dead. Just watch, before you know it, you’ll be doing covers for the New Yorker and rolling in greens. Maybe even afford a decent suit or two.”Steve’s mouth quirks. “If I was rich, I’d hope I could afford more than a couple suits. I’d definitely move into a nice studio; no neighbors breathing down your neck and more rooms than you can shake a fist at.”“You’re telling me you don’t like finding new drafts, creaky floorboards or this old thing?” and Bucky knocks his ankle against the tub that, thanks to the board placed over the top, doubles as their table. “You’d miss all this.”Steve pretends to think it over. “Sometimes it has its charm. But there just isn’t enough daylight for painting, you know?”“That’s easy. I’ll go knock some holes in the roof. Why pay out the nose when I can do it for free?”Steve can’t help the little snort, and shaking his head, goes back to little thumbnails and layouts filling out every inch of free space on the newspaper. Should I say something? About last night? Bucky sips his coffee, and after sneaking a peek at Steve when he’s not looking, decides against it.It’s not like they ever got sappy with each other. Why start now? A couple days pass and nothing’s changed. Great! At least Bucky knows he didn’t screw everything up.It’s just that they fall back into routine so carefully that hurts. As if they’re trying to act so damn normal like their lives depended on it. Maybe it’s a one-off. We had an itch to scratch. Now it’s scratched, Bucky thinks as he shifts the bags tucked under his arms, all of them stuffed with more supplies than they can usually afford. Food, coffee, back up medicine, the works. With only a couple days left before boot camp, it feels like he better get his affairs in order. (It’s hard - really hard - trying not to think of what Steve’ll get into when he doesn’t have someone watching his back)By the time Bucky starts up the stairs to the apartment, his arms and calves burn from the effort, while it also looks like the bags are on their last legs. At this point, he’s ready to call it a day, get settled, even have a smoke out on the fire escape. Maybe clean up and hit the halls.Kicking his shoes off, Bucky sets the bags down. “Steve, you home?” All he gets is Steve grumbling something from the couch. From here, all Bucky sees is his legs kicked up on an armrest, but even so, Bucky can just tell he’s sour about something.“Meeting didn’t work out?”“It worked out fine. They like my stuff,” Steve says brusquely. “They’re giving me a trial run on a half-page.”“That’s great news! We should celebrate,” Bucky starts, only for Steve to make this sound that says he doesn’t feel like celebrating, which Bucky’s also gonna ignore. Sometimes you had to drag Steve out on the town and he’d end up having fun. “I know just the place-”Bucky suddenly trails off next; just rounding the couch, he now gets a frontrow seat to Steve trying to wrap up knuckles that look swollen or bloody, skin split and looking suspiciously fresh.“The hell’d you do, pick a fight with a brick wall?” “Punching bag. Figured I’d stop at Goldie’s.”“And practically break your knuckles,” finishes Bucky.Steve scowls. “It’s not that bad. Besides, I’m not gonna toughen up if I bail just because it hurts a little.” Doesn’t look like it only hurts a ‘little’, Bucky thinks. “...Right, but it’ll make it harder to do those layouts.”Steve goes back to trying to single-handedly tie off the bandage and mostly failing. “I’ll make it work. It’s not like I broke my hand or something.”Perching on the couch edge, Bucky nabs the wraps off Steve, who thankfully doesn’t put up a fight on that front. At this point, Bucky’s an old hat at this. Quick and efficient, he sets to cleaning the split skin first, before winding a fresh bandage neatly along each hand. “Good as new. Should be fine as long as there isn't a round two,” Bucky says, tying up the last knot and smoothing the strips along Steve's knuckles. Steve eyes the fresh bandages on hands that always looked too large for his frame as if wishing he didn’t belong to them. Or his body, period.Steve mostly hides a wince when he flexes his hand. “Can’t make any promises.”“Sure you can. Stop trying to knock a hole in every punching bag or square up with every clown in Brooklyn. Besides, what’re you gonna do when you don’t have someone bailing you out?” Bucky regrets it the moment he says it, because Steve's jaw grits. Bucky gives Steve's knee a squeeze. “Look, forget it. Get cleaned up and we'll go catch a movie. My treat."They both realize when Bucky's hand lingers too long on Steve's knee; right when Steve's attention just drops to Bucky's fingers splayed out on him and holds. Too late to pass it off as anything decent, Bucky draws his hand back. Or he would, if Steve hadn't caught him by the wrist. "What if I'm in the mood for something else?" asks Steve, head cocked as he studies Bucky so intently it sends a dangerous frisson of excitement coiling past his stomach. Makes it go tight with anticipation. Makes him seriously think about sinking his teeth in Steve's lower lip, which looks so plush it's unfair. Steve catches Bucky looking, because of course he does. "Still your treat?""Sure," Bucky shrugs, aiming for cool and casual, only it comes out rougher. "Anything you want."Steve's eyes darken, pupils dilating. It's a blank check if there ever was one. Problem is, he just… wants. Wants Steve so badly that Bucky'll take anything he can get. While it lasts, however long that is. Even if it's just one more round.Steve guides Bucky's hand back, and because Bucky can't help it, he strokes his thumb along the inseam tracing along his inner thigh. Steve's throat bobs in a hard swallow. Lets his legs fall open."Anything, huh? You shouldn't run your mouth like that. Could get a fella in trouble."Bucky snorts: like Steve isn't the king of mouthing off. Or finding trouble. "Maybe I got a gift. Never wrote a check I couldn't cash.""Like you've ever written a check in your life," Steve bites his lip as Bucky traces along his fly. "You're just as poor as I am.""So? Never stopped me from showing a bird a good time-"Steve doesn't let him finish. He drags Bucky the rest of the way by his shirt collar, into a kiss that's nowhere near the soft, gentle ones Bucky'd had with any of his girlfriends, but oh-so-perfect that no one else'll ever top it. Blood practically races right down to his dick, arousal flaring down every fiber of Bucky's being when Steve's legs welcome him in as he chases after every slick glide of tongue with his own.The kiss is messy. Hard. And so perfect. "Is that how you kiss all your girls?" Steve asks breathlessly when Bucky finally lets him up.Bucky pretends to think it over. "Nope, 'cause they're a lot sweeter than you, so I'll kiss 'em sweet. Not you though - you're all piss and vinegar wrapped up in trouble."Steve shoots him such a dirty look that it feels like victory when Steve shuts him up with another kiss. The best part; Steve takes it like a challenge. The little guy kisses him so fiercely that it leaves Bucky feeling dizzy with want, and forgetting all about the fact that maybe he shouldn't be crushing Steve when he crowds him up against the couch. By the time they break for air, his cock's already half-hard and throbbing where it's trapped against his underwear, and even though his lungs burn, he dives back in for round two, three and four.Here Bucky had figured on hitting one of the dance halls tonight. Get some fun before he heads off for boot; after all, it's over once Uncle Sam scoops him up. So the last thing Bucky wanted is getting cooped up. But if it's fooling around with Steve? Bucky's kinda hoping he won't even have the energy to leave the bed. Especially when Steve looks like a real dish, all rumpled and flushed. Bucky looks so pleased with himself that Steve rolls his eyes, even if he can't quite hide the smile."Alright, jackass, think I like you best with your mouth busy," Steve's growl rumbles out of him so deep and rich that Bucky almost rubbernecks to see where the hell it could've come from. Sure as hell not that skinny frame. Steve straightens, but only so he can urge Bucky off the couch with a hand on his shoulder. Bucky goes with it as easy as sinking into a dream. He settles between Steve's spread ankles like it's a place that's been waiting for him all his life and - oh hell - Bucky has to give himself a squeeze through his slacks thanks to the stab of lust at that thought. Steve stares down at him like he's never seen a nicer picture. Bucky can't help giving himself one last knead before he's good, he's fine, he's got it under control, and spreads both hands along Steve's narrow thighs. "Seeing as you're always bragging how gifted you are with it," Steve says huskily. "Why don't you show me what all the fuss is about?"Bucky's gaze drops from Steve's to his thickening shaft, even as he reaches for Steve's belt. "Is it bragging if every rumor's true? I mean, never had any complaints. Plenty of repeat customers.""God. You're such an ass," Steve mutters to himself.Of course Bucky's never blown a guy before. But come on, how hard can it be: watch the teeth, don't get choked, right? Piece of cake. Plus Bucky's got a reputation to protect. And… maybe, just maybe, if he blows Steve's mind, he won't be too keen on anyone else.So Bucky spreads Steve's fly open, watching the way Steve's lips part, and makes sure to take his sweet time about it like he's unwrapping the last gift on Christmas day. Bucky's breath catches next. A nice, rosy flush spreads down from the blunt head of Steve's cock when Bucky draws him out, hard and throbbing as Bucky gives him an unhurried, slow pump just so he can watch Steve's throat work hard. "Mind the teeth," Steve tells him, like he needs the reminder. Bucky's gaze locks on Steve's as he leans in, inhaling the heady scent of sex and his best friend… before painting a damp trail along the prominent vein underneath with the flat of his tongue, as slow and unhurried as if he had all the time in the world. Even if he doesn't: not with boot camp and then shipping out sitting on the horizon.Steve's eyes squeeze closed for a moment. It's gotta be killing him.
Good!
Squirming against his own aching dick rubbing against his underwear, Bucky learns the shape of him, with damp swipes of his tongue or soft brush of his lips, until he's got him good and glistening all over. It feels a little like he won the lottery when a whimper escapes Steve before he can stop it. Or maybe it's when he arches upwards, chasing after Bucky's mouth like he can't bear being away from him.Steve's hand clenches on the armrest as if fighting the urge to touch. "How about you stop fooling around before I go and get it from someone else?""Yeah right. Like you're not curious," Bucky says as if they're talking about the weather and he's not on his knees for his best friend. As if he's not leaning in to nuzzle against the little patch of skin above the base of his dick to gently nip at it. Steve jerks under him. "You really could learn a thing or two about patience, you know.""Oh, there's plenty I could teach you, Buck," Steve's voice drops so low and gravel-rough that Bucky's dick aches. "Starting with how exactly I want you blowing me. I like it slow and deep. You wanna do that for me?"Bucky shudders, pupils wide. "Y-yeah.""Well… go on then."Normally Bucky'd have something wise-ass for him. Now he can't think of a single damn thing. Not with Steve's eyes glittering down at him like that or the way he's sprawled out nice and easy like he's six foot something and not ninety pounds and some change. Bucky stops fucking with him and goes for it. Carefully, Bucky parts his lips and for the first time, begins to take him down. A startled groan rumbles out against the thick shaft, at the taste of him, the heady weight of him settling on his tongue and filling his mouth. Hurriedly, Bucky fumbles his own fly open; he can't take it anymore, and as he lets his jaw fall open so he can take Steve down more, Bucky drags his own cock out into the open to give himself a needy pump. Oh thank God. Even if it's not enough. Bucky rolls eagerly into his own grip, and curls his tongue up along the hard shaft just to hear Steve moan thickly."Holy hell, you feel so good. So goddamn hot," Steve breathes out, tracing a thumb along where Bucky's lips are parted around him. "Little more, I know you can."He doesn't even have Steve down all the way. Bucky tries anyway; up until the blunt head nudges at the back of his throat which sends that warning tickle that makes Bucky back off for a moment to suck in a gasp and pump at his own cock, legs splayed out.But not for long. Bucky sinks Steve back into wet heat, breathing hard as his cheeks hollow around his cock, this time ready to ride out the roll of Steve's hips. It's easy to lose time like that. Forget all about everything else but the throbbing cock filling up his mouth, the gorgeous sounds he works out of Steve, and Steve's fingers combing through his hair, mussing up the pomade."That's it, there you go. It's like you were made for this. You're aces at this, you really are."Jesus! Lust spikes so hot through him that the moan dragged out of Bucky's so agonized and filthy muffled against Steve's cock that it sounds a little like he's dying. Oh God. Oh hell! Steve stares down at him in shock when Bucky writhes desperately into his own hand, pleasure flaring so hot along every nerve that he nearly, nearly comes right there.Steve recovers first, rocking his hip to fuck his cock inside on a long hot slide. "You like that, huh?" Bucky nearly loses it anyway when Steve's hand grips hard in his hair and gives him a little shake, Steve's voice twining dark and smooth like expensive whisky and leather. "No. You get to come when I'm good and ready. You're gonna be good for me, Buck?"Bucky barely manages a nod, squeezing the base of his cock so he doesn't blow it early. Steve's touch gentles, carding through dark strands. Doesn't even need to say anything else. With a throaty groan, Bucky dives back in. He sinks him deep with a hungry sound as fights down the urge to work his own cock: 1) because Steve told him how it's gonna go and 2) Bucky honestly doesn't trust himself not to lose it.So Bucky loses himself in the throb of Steve's cock as he carefully thrusts upwards, the way Steve makes all kinds of breathless little groans and whines each time Bucky works him over with a ruthlessness like it's his only mission in life or maybe like he's going for the gold. Steve's close. So close that each thrust gets jerky, his thighs trembling under Bucky's palms. It's right when Bucky plunges down on Steve's cock deep as he can, Steve suddenly drags him off with a grip tangled into his hair and a thick, tortured groan. Bucky looks a little dazed when he's pulled off him, face flushed and mouth looking tender - he's a mess, but Steve looks pleased as punch at the picture he paints."You didn't cheat, did you? Didn't go touching yourself?""Hell no," Bucky can't help straining back towards Steve's lap, savoring the sting in his scalp when Steve resists. Steve smirks. "Good. Be a real shame if you ran outta gas early.""Don't worry about that, pal, I got plenty to spare."Steve rises, urging Bucky up; his best friend looks so hard up it's a wonder he hasn't combusted or something. Of course, Bucky has to play dirty. He drags Steve's hips flush against his, just so he can grind himself against Steve's cock, watch pleasure spasm across Steve's face right before he steals another kiss from him. Another leads to another, then another, as Steve pumps at his cock and walks Bucky back towards their room, until the backs of Bucky's knees meet with the bed. Which is about the worst time for Bucky's last remaining brain cells meeting up right then. Out of the two of them, Bucky figures he's just plain got more experience. (Even if Steve's managed more than he ever bet on. It's just with one other guy. Hopefully.) They're going fast, kicking over every single fence without checking if they should. Maybe Bucky's got it so bad for Steve that he'll take anything he can get, but Steve? What if he looks back on this and regrets it? Even if it's late, still. Especially when Steve's to blame for making Bucky lose his wits. Better never having this again than lose my best friend, Bucky thinks. So maybe he should be the responsible one here. It's just hard when Steve's so hot and hungry against him that Bucky almost forgets how to string together a sentence.Bucky tries anyway. "Listen, I was just thinking-"“Now’s the time you want to hash everything out?” Steve mumbles against his throat.Bucky shrugs, even as he can't help dragging Steve's shirt off. “Yeah, I know, sometimes it happens. Just… maybe we should talk about it." Us, is what he really means."You really want to? Right now?""...Not really," Bucky has to admit. "Just figured I'm the one who's still got the brains here, so I better say something."Steve socks him in the arm for that, which doesn't even sting, but does knock a laugh from Bucky. Instantly Bucky feels loads better about all this. Because whatever's between them right now? Doesn't have to ruin the friendship they have. Nothing will. Bucky sinks onto the mattress, kicking off his slacks and underwear, before he drags Steve in close to press little kitten licks all over the damp, blunt head of his cock. Steve shudders with a low gasp. Unable to resist, Steve clutches at him, drags his cock in a filthy slide along the curve of Bucky's lips as if sorely tempted to sink back inside.Steve makes himself ease off instead, nipping sharply at Bucky's lower lip."That was cheap, real cheap. Always knew you'd fight dirty.""Sometimes you gotta roll around in the dirt if you want to win. You should try it sometime."Steve huffs, but it's hard to get upset when he's got Bucky dragging him into breathless kisses. "And I think you're gonna stop being a brat and turn over for me."Bucky can't help himself. "Sure. You know the magic word."With a growl, Steve shoves at Bucky until he turns and bends him over the bed, greedily shoving his shirt up his back and scoring his teeth down his best friend's back. Bucky arches almost like he's in heat."Jesus Christ, Steve," Bucky grits out, burying his face in his arms as Steve presses a trail of kisses and licks along the welts left along his spine. Helplessly, Bucky rocks against the sheets. "Shoulda figured you'd be bossy in the sack too.""You aren't the only who's never had any complaints, Buck. Spread 'em. And get the slick while you're at it."With a shamefully eager sound, Bucky practically trips over himself to obey, wanting and desperately hard for it. He fumbles for the slick stashed away in the nightstand; there's not much left, really, but going out for more just isn't an option. Not while he's got Steve all to himself like this. Turns out Steve tossing out demands like he's king of the roost does a helluva number. Makes Bucky feel stupid with lust.Bucky's just not sure what to do with that ugly needling feeling in his chest; someone else got to see Steve like this. Someone else got to see Steve first. And, if anything, Bucky's too realistic to ever think he'll be the last. When people see Steve, really see him, how can you not get drawn to him?
Maybe I can live with it after all. Especially when I got this right now, Bucky thinks. Mostly forgets all about being green when Steve groans his name against his shoulder like a prayer - and sinks into Bucky those last inches to press flush against him.Bucky buries his face in the sheets to muffle the whimper, opening up with the delicious pleasure-pain that he's starting to savor a little too much. Steve grunts, grip tightening on his hips, and drags at him as Bucky rolls his hips to feel every inch open him up in an ache that he's hoping he'll feel for days.What Bucky doesn't do is touch himself. Steve's orders: you only get to come when he says so. Turns out there's nothing more Bucky wants to do than carry it out. Even if it's a special kind of torture. Steve pets along Bucky's flank as if he can already tell just how much Bucky's fighting not to lose it already."You good, Bucky? You look good. Someone should take a picture."Bucky's strangled laugh makes him clench around Steve's dick. "Bet that'd sell out so fast we could afford that studio of yours. Maybe an entire building.""Humble too.""Anything you want, pal."Steve mouths the nape of Bucky's neck as he begins to rock shallow thrusts into him. "You shouldn't be saying dumb stuff like that.""It isn't dumb." It's already tough keeping a train of thought when Steve starts to work up a steady pace that pins his cock between himself and the bed. Bucky's fingers clench on the sheets. Don't touch yourself, Barnes, just don't. "And why not?""You just… shouldn't say it, that's all. Blank checks are dangerous." "Maybe I mean - oh fuck. Yeah, right there, please - " anything else Bucky's got dies before it gets out when Steve punctuates that with a deep thrust that angles his dick to shove right against that spot inside him that sends sheer pleasure blazing through every nerve. Bucky's head hangs as he shifts restlessly, smearing precome against the sheets. "Give it to me, please, you gotta - "Thank God Steve's lungs decided to play nice today. Not even a hint of a rasp as Steve begins to fuck him steadily, begins to drive into him, open him up and leave him full like he's planning on planting a flag that says to the world that Steve Rogers was here. And why that does such a number on him, Bucky doesn't care to figure it out after.All he knows is that he's got it bad. That he's desperate for more.Bucky shoves back against each plunge, fucks himself back against Steve to swallow him up balls deep. He's left open for him, all Steve's. The bed springs squeak under them as Steve digs his heels in and impales him over and over, jaw clenched to try and keep a lid on it since their walls give paper a run for its money. Bucky's barely got a brain cell left to remember that. Doesn't trust himself, so he muffles the groans into his arm as Steve fucks him greedily, aiming over and over with an aim that'd make a sniper jealous, all while the pleasure builds and builds, he's close, so goddamn close -"Look at you. All kindsa pretty like this, not a bad side to ya," Steve rumbles. Bucky shudders around him, every nerve practically a livewire as he works himself needily into the mattress. Steve rakes his nails up up Bucky's back to tangle into dark hair, dragging Bucky's head back. Steve's lips brush against his ear, grinds his cock against that place inside him that has him seeing stars. "You've been so good, I think you've earned it. Go on. Come for me."It happens so fast that it somehow takes him by surprise. The pressure suddenly snaps. Bucky practically flies apart under Steve with a dying moan, seizes up so tight around Steve's cock that Steve bites out a dying groan as he pushes deep in a harsh thrust just to spill inside him while Bucky writhes under him, comes so fucking hard that he nearly whites out.How long Bucky drifts in that soft haze, he doesn't have a damn clue. When the world finally comes back into focus, Bucky finds he's lying limply halfway off the bed… and Steve struggling to brace him against completely sliding off, staring down at him with a worried look. Even though his limbs feel like jelly, Bucky forces himself to help Steve out. Before he flattens him or something.Arms shaking, Bucky drags himself up onto the bed like it's a monumental effort, which mostly ends up looking more like he's flopping onto it like a sack. He's barely got it in him to tug Steve up with him.“Jesus, Steve, where'd the hell you learn to do all that?” Bucky pants. The worry wipes off Steve's face. Now Steve grins, all Mr-Smug-Bastard. "Trade secret. You can't expect me to give 'em away.""Oh God. And I'm the one who's supposed to be a pain in the ass."Steve's mouth twitches but he fights off taking that easy crack. "Maybe I was just really inspired."" 'Inspired', he calls it," honestly, Bucky doesn't want to think of how much practice Steve must have. 'Course, it helps when things're getting tacky and sticky. A shower sounds good. If Steve's quick enough, maybe there'll be some hot water left.But later. Steve's nice and easy lounging out next to him, like he doesn't have a care in the world.When Bucky slings an arm around Steve’s waist and drags him in so he can nuzzle against him, Steve doesn’t fuss over too much other than sigh and press his face along Bucky’s throat.
When Bucky wakes, it's to the first light that manages to thread its way into the apartment. Careful not to set the mattress squeaking, Bucky pushes himself up, but not before glancing at the slim form stretched out on the other side of the bed. Steve’s like that when it’s not freezing. Starfishes or huddles up to the edge of the bed like mountain goat, while Bucky’s the type to want to plaster himself up against his partner. Or be the little spoon. He’s not picky.For once, Steve’s breathing comes nice and easy, without even a hint of asthma kicking in, face smoothed of the harshness that sets in when he has to go out and face the world. Helluva lot better than when he got home yesterday. And if they’re lucky, Steve’ll actually manage some straight sleep. Lord knows he needs it.Quietly Bucky slips out from bed, dragging on his boxers and a wrinkled shirt, and for lack of anything better to keep him from folding Steve into his arms or something stupid and sappy like that, starts cleaning up the mess they left behind. And it's a lot. Their clothes littered everywhere, Steve’s books scattered from his bag, the shoes they almost tripped over. The place looks like a tornado went through it.That’s when Bucky sees it in the trash bin: something tan and crumbled, almost buried underneath waxed papers, receipts and a couple of Steve’s sketches that didn’t go anywhere. Not enough to be of interest, if it weren’t for the official looking line of type at the bottom. He can’t help it; he fishes out the wadded card and unfolds it.“Geeze louise,” Bucky sighs. A “4F” sits stamped in bold across the bottom of the enlistment form and when Bucky skims the lines above, now it looks like Steve’s living in Rochester all of a sudden….and going by ‘Stephan Williams”.The whole kit and kaboodle’s dated from yesterday afternoon. Now it all adds up.
When Steve finally wanders out, looking like he got eight hours for once, Bucky’s elbow-deep in the dishes, suds everywhere… and the stupid enlistment form crumbled up all over again and buried under the trash so thoroughly that you’d really have to dig to to find it.Far as Steve’s concerned? Bucky didn’t see a damn thing this time.Steve joins Bucky, rubbing his eyes. “Why’d you let me sleep in for?”“You looked like you needed your beauty sleep. Lots of it,” Bucky flicks soapy water at Steve just to hear him sputter, grinning at the offended look. Shrugging, Bucky starts in on one of the pots. “Honestly, I couldn’t sleep with Mr. Buford snoring the walls down again. Figured I might as well jump on this.”Steve grimaces; after the new 4F, he probably doesn’t want anyone's help. Or feeling like he owed something. “Sure, but the dishes were supposed to be mine.”“Get some coffee going and we’re square. I’m a dead man walking here without some Joe. It’s an emergency. I’m desperate. I’ll die without it.” Steve can’t help the little grin. “And we can’t have that, can we?”“No, sir,” says Bucky solemnly. “We sure can’t.”Bucky’s shoulders sag with relief when Steve turns, doesn’t look down at the waste bin, and putters about the kitchen; they fall back into a rhythm so familiar that Bucky barely remembers what life was like before Steve agreed to move in, and doesn’t want to try either. Even if they’re acting like nothing funny happened between them in the sheets.Every day that marches past is one step closer to leaving for boot camp. And then one more step towards actually shipping out for the War.But until then, Bucky plans on savoring every moment between them while it lasts.
[END]