Time, Steve finds out in the next week, is not reliable at all.
Bucky has to spend another few days at home, until all the pheromones are flushed out of his system, and with the deliriousness of the heat gone, everything is so much sweeter, somehow more real, because not every touch makes the omega gasp and writhe on the sheets, not every word is hard for him to form.
And although Bucky says he hates it, being stuck at home when he ought to work and make a bit of money before winter has them in its claws, Steve can feel that the other still enjoys it nonetheless, just spending all day in bed, talking and touching and being close to each other.
Especially because now, everything is different, Steve can feel Bucky all the time, like a sixth sense, delicate tendrils of the omega's feelings and thoughts intertwining with his own, like cobwebs sticking to skin. It should be frightening, but it isn't.
Instead, it's the most comforting thing, lying awake at night and being able to feel a shadow of Bucky's dreams, to know when the other is smiling without even being in the same room.
But time is a traitor, a fickle little thing, and those three, four days pass in the blink of an eye; before Steve knows it, Bucky is out of the door, leaving only a hollow feeling behind.
(If it's him feeling it, or the omega, Steve doesn't even know; their feelings blend together so easily.)
At first, it's harder to feel Bucky like that, when he is far away, working and joking and doing things no omega should have to, and it's surprisingly uncomfortable, being the only one to inhabit his body again. It gets better quickly though, Bucky's thoughts reappear next to Steve's own, shadows of his feelings, of sun and sweat and Bucky's smile, and although it's only been a few days, it still feels as if it had been this way all his life, as if Bucky had always been somewhere inside of him and Steve only had to find him.
He still doesn't know what it is Bucky is doing right now, doesn't know what the other is seeing, smelling, no matter how much Steve would like to, but he knows what the other feels, when he is smiling and when he is annoyed, when he wants to go home. When he misses Steve.
And Bucky misses him a lot, it seems, although Steve knows that the other can feel him just as well as he can feel Bucky; it's mutual, and it makes him feel all warm inside, tingly.
A few days pass, and Bucky comes home every evening, all smiles and so much love flooding their bond that Steve can't breathe, and Steve loves him back enough to make it impossible to think as well. And yet, it's not enough, or at least it doesn't feel like it, because Bucky is working all day when he should be at home and being taken care of, when Steve should take his place and can't.
But what he can do is something, nothing big, because they cannot afford that, but something, and hope that it's enough.
There are a lot of things James Buchanan Barnes likes. Cigarettes, cheap whiskey, more expensive whiskey, cotton candy, the smell of baked apples, sleeping far too long and staying up far too late, but what he likes most, and complains about not having most, is dancing.
Back when they were still just friends, Steve had sometimes come with him, had watched Bucky spin beta girls around and grin at older alphas, and while Steve had always hated to see the other with anyone else, he had never been able to deny that Bucky looked beautiful like that, all graceful movements and sparkling eyes.
Steve, though, has never been much of a dancer, and has never been looked at anyway in those bars, but maybe… maybe, with the right partner, that could change.
"Steve?" Bucky's hair is pushed back, his cheeks flushed and Steve can see the thin sheen of sweat making his skin glow; the other looks gorgeous and still confused, one eyebrow raised as he looks at Steve. "What are you doing here?"
There is confusion in his voice, mostly confusion, and Steve doesn't blame him for it – Bucky would expect him to be at home, cooking or drawing or reading – but there is excitement too, and Steve can feel their bond warm and sweet between them.
"I came to pick you up", Steve replies, taking a moment, because he's blushing a little, without knowing why.
There is no doubt in his mind that Bucky will like this, will laugh and dance and drink, and yet, Steve feels just a little bit nervous, a little bit shy. Like someone asking their crush out on a first day. "I thought… I thought I'd take you out. Dancing. Maybe for dinner first, if you're hungry."
By now, he is better with distinguishing emotions from one another when Bucky sends them through their bond, so it's easy to feel surprise (prickly and fresh somehow, a light breeze which carries both joy and nervousness with it), excitement (like a rush, blood speeding up and his heart starting to pump wildly, every nerve ready to shoot and experience and feel) and just simple, sweet love, which makes Steve's heart swell and feel too big for his chest, which makes him feel warm and content.
"Never took you for a dancer, Stevie", Bucky replies, and he's grinning, teasing, but stepping forward nonetheless. For a second, Steve imagines how it would be to just kiss the omega right here, right now, how Bucky's lips would feel and how the other would wrap his arms around his neck, would hold him close.
He can't do more than that, though, because they're outside and people could see and although they're mates it doesn't change the fact that kissing outside is absolutely out of the question. What Steve can do, though, is reach out and hold his hand out for Bucky to take.
There is a smile on the other's face, stretching his lips wide, and Steve thinks he reaches out, but their fingers never touch, at least not in this moment – someone appears behind Bucky, a group of four men, and suddenly Steve realises the flaw in his plan. Of course, it means that some of the other men's shifts end as well when Bucky's does; and for a few moments, Steve is afraid that it will embarrass the other, being seen with him, acknowledging that his mate is as weak and helpless as Steve is.
But Bucky just grins, even if he lets his hand drop to his sides, so that he can turn around, look at the others, who Steve assumes to be his friends. The omega never does more than mention them in fleeting, but Steve always assumed them to be more than just colleagues.
In some life, which seems like a dream now, even assumed them potential lovers.
Bucky opens his mouth, wants to say something, but no words come, because one of the other men speaks first.
He's an alpha, even Steve notices that without a second's delay, and a powerful, strong one too, broad-shouldered and dark-haired, who raises an eyebrow and looks Steve up and down like one would an opponent in a fight, only that both of them know that they would never be evenly matched in one.
"Don't tell me that's your alpha, Jimmy boy", the other alpha remarks mockingly and turns to Bucky. Why it makes Steve so mad to hear someone refer to Bucky with that strange, somehow unfamiliar nickname, he doesn't know, but it does. Maybe because it gives the semblance of intimacy where none is supposed to be.
"He looks like he doesn't weigh more than a hundred pounds. Can he even-"
The other alpha makes a lewd gesture, which makes Steve blush, makes him angry too, because no one is supposed to talk about, to his mate like that. He turns around to look at Bucky, but the other has already stepped forward, and although Steve cannot see his face, he knows that the omega's eyes are glistening with anger.
It's something in Bucky's posture, in the way he holds his head and squares his shoulders; it's the faint traces of wrath coming through their bond and mixing with his thoughts, which make Steve step forward too, next to the omega, who's a head taller than him and could break him in half.
"What did you just say", Bucky hisses and he sounds like he is spitting venom, like he is slicing the men in half with the mere sound of his voice. "What did you just-"
Steve puts his hand on Bucky's arm, sends a wave of clear, cool calmness through their bond, which doesn't tickle like surprise, instead feels like water soothing an open wound.
"C'mon, Buck, it's not worth it", he mutters and means it; he's used to this kind of words, and they're not enough to faze him anymore; they hurt, but they don't anger him. And really, what do they matter right now, when Bucky's there and he's been planning this for weeks?
The others, though, the ones Steve once believed to be Bucky's friends, only smirk as the alpha from before taking a step forward. He looks even taller now, taller than Steve of course, but taller than Bucky too, and obviously oh so confident.
"Oh, I didn't mean to upset you", the other says and although his voice is soft, it's mocking, and Steve catches himself clenching his fists, gritting his teeth. "I just wanted to say that if he ever fails to satisfy your omega needs, you know where to find me."
He's all but leering at Bucky, as if his words hadn't been clear enough, and Steve's face is burning and it's so hard to hold himself back; he's doing it for Bucky's sake, because he knows how much the other suffers when he comes home with a split, bloody lip and one eye swollen shut and coloured blue and black.
One of Steve's hands is still on Bucky's arm, not squeezing, just resting there, and Steve wants to use it to pull his mate back, to tell him again that it's not worth it and that they should just leave, but it's too late.
The other alpha doesn't seem to expect Bucky to do anything, that must is clear(does any of them truly know Bucky, Steve can't help but wonder), but that only works to Bucky's advantage; three, fast steps and he is punching the other alpha in the face.
It's a hard punch, because being an omega doesn't have to say anything about that, and Steve almost thinks he can hear the alpha's cheekbones crack, his teeth grind. There is blood gushing from the man's nose a second later, spilling down on his white shirt, and for a moment, no one is moving, speaking, breathing, just watching. And for a moment, Steve feels a tiny bit of satisfaction, and even more pride, because just looking was enough to know that that was one hell of a punch.
But it doesn't last long, since Bucky is still standing there, breathing hard and the other alpha might be stunned, but just for a moment, just a moment before he raises his own hand and returns the blow, hits Bucky across the jaw.
Steve can't see, because the omega is standing with his back to him, but he can feel it, the pain seeping through their bond like molten lead, hot and searing. The other men standing around, who were sneering and grinning just seconds before, are gasping now, rushing forward to hold the alpha back, who looks almost as shocked as they do – it's no law, but it could be: you do not hit an omega.
Never.
But Steve doesn't care, because Bucky is not an omega, he's Bucky and his mate and his best friend, and Bucky is hurt.
It takes him four, maybe five steps while it only took the other three, but then he's beside Bucky, can see the damage that alpha's fist has caused. The omega's lip is split, bleeding sluggishly, and Steve can see just where he hit Bucky; the skin is red and he knows that it will turn blue and black before long.
"Oh God, Buck, are you okay, does it hurt, did he- he didn't manage to punch out one of your teeth, did he-", Steve rambles, stutters, not quite knowing what to do, because usually it's the other way around; usually it's him getting beat up and Bucky who does the fixing.
"Never been better", the omega answers, and it's only now that Steve realises that there's a hint of a smile on Bucky's bloody lips, "And you know why, Stevie?"
Bucky turns and spits blood on the streets; when he grins, his teeth are shining red. "Because I will get this stupid douchebag over there fired for punching me tomorrow." The other looks almost dangerous like this, vicious, and Steve loves him, has to keep himself from kissing the blood off Bucky's lips.
Fortunately, Bucky doesn't give him much time to suffer because he can't do just that, instead takes Steve's hand with the one he used to punch that alpha, holds it tightly. "C'mon, we're out of here", he says, and Steve nods, and follows.
In the end, they don't go dancing. Instead, they end up in the tiny living room of their tiny flat, Steve on his knees and Bucky on one of the chairs, his bottom lip and half of his face swollen and red, just like Steve knew it would be.
There is a small bowl of water in front of him, and Steve dips the sleeve of a shirt he doesn't like too much – washing towels is much more work than shirts, so Steve tries to avoid doing it as much as possible.
"Lean down", he instructs Bucky and waits until the other has done what he said before he continues, "This is gonna hurt, but it's all your fault, so I will refuse to feel bad for it."
He does feel bad for it though, at least as soon as Bucky flinches. Still, there is no way around it, he has to clean the wound, so Steve keeps dabbing at the omega's split lip with the sleeve of his shirt, trying to be as gentle as possible.
"You know, you could just have stayed quiet", Steve says after a few moments of silence, because he has to, because he can't let Bucky do this again. He gets into enough of fights of his own, there is no need for the other to come home bruised and bloody too. "I wouldn't have minded."
Bucky scoffs, and Steve's hand slips a little, the hem of the sleeve pushing too hard against the small wound on Bucky's lip and making it bleed again. Not badly, just enough to leave new, bright red stains on the white fabric.
"No, I couldn't", Bucky answers, words slurred together slightly because Steve is still trying to clean him up. "Not with what he called you. Can't let anyone insult my alpha like that."
Although he doesn't want to, Steve stop his stomach from fluttering a little, like it always does when Bucky calls him that, reminds him that they are, indeed, mates. And of course that means Bucky knows it too; occasionally, there are times when Steve doesn't enjoy their bond as much as he usually does.
Especially because Bucky is grinning when Steve pulls his hand away. "And you liked it, just admit it. You wanted to punch him as much as I did."
He could lie, of course Steve could, but Bucky would feel it that as well as he must have been able to feel his heart fluttering, so it would be no use. And apart from that, Steve has never been good with lying, and even worse with lying to Bucky. So he doesn't even try doing it now, just rolls his eyes and then nods.
"I did, but I also liked your face the way it was before this", he adds, just before Bucky gets too smug, and receives a warm, teasing smile in return.
"Oh Steve, are you trying to tell me you liked my face before?", Bucky asks, and there is mirth sparkling in his eyes as he reaches down, brushes a single fingertip over Steve's jaw. It's the smallest of touches and yet it sends tingles down Steve's spine.
He laughs nonetheless, just a tiny chuckle, but reaches up to catch Bucky's hand in his.
"No, of course not", Steve replies only a moment later, "I only bonded to you for life because of your stunning personality."
It's supposed to be a joke, sarcastic, but somehow, it doesn't come out that way, either because of the way Bucky looks at him or the way Steve sounds, he cannot tell. But it does, and Bucky looks at him for a moment and then bends down, kisses him, and for Steve, it is still amazing that beneath the layers of his own feelings, he can feel Bucky's too.
He kisses back, of course he does, and Bucky's lips taste like blood, are still wet from the water and Steve loves every second of it, kisses Bucky like he should be kissed, softly, gently and above all, lovingly.
"I'm sorry I messed up our date", the omega mutters against his lips a second before pulling away, their hands still intertwined. "Didn't mean to. I promise not to get punched on our next one, alright?"
Steve can't help but smile; the words are all Bucky, like he's always known him. "That'd be good", he agrees, leans in the few millimetres still keeping them apart to kiss Bucky softly, just letting the touch linger a few seconds. "As mentioned, I like your face without all the bruises and the blood."
Maybe it takes a second longer than it should until Steve pulls away, but neither of them minds; Bucky's eyes follow Steve when he gets up, but he doesn't follow, just stays still, eyes sparkling in the dimming light. He's beautiful, although his lips are swollen and his face is bruised, and Steve is still holding his hand, rough fingertips dragging over Steve's thin, pale skin.
It's not an idea, because it doesn't feel new, but it's still exciting when Steve tugs at the hand in his, waits for Bucky to raise an eyebrow and then stand up nonetheless.
Omegas are supposed to be small and delicate, slender and sweet; Bucky is neither, and yet, he moves with the grace an omega should possess. Moves close to Steve so that their chests are almost touching, and Steve can feel the amusement in Bucky's gaze making his skin tingle.
"Have I ever told you that you're the worst sap I've ever had the misfortune of encountering?", Bucky asks, and his voice is as teasing as it should be, but even without the bond pulsing warm and sweet between them, Steve would not believe a word of what the other is saying.
"Have I ever told you to shut up and kiss me?", Steve shoots back, places his hands on Bucky's hips, his left thumb just so slipping underneath the omega's shirt. "Because if not, I should definitely remedy that."
There is a hint of laughter in his voice and in Bucky's eyes, but there are no sounds, because half a second afterwards, Bucky does exactly what Steve asked him to, kisses him. It's soft, but it couldn't be anything else, because Bucky's lip is still split and because the moment is just as tender, wouldn't allow anything else. And it's a little bit perfect too, a little bit what Steve needs.
Their lips are still pressed together, slowly sliding together, Steve's tongue darting out to lick at Bucky's lips, and the omega raises his arms and drapes them around Steve's narrow shoulders. It's neither a hug nor a proper dancing stance, but then again, they don't have music either, only their heartbeats for a rhythm, the pace of their shared breaths.
Steve has never been a dancer, so it's the most natural thing to let Bucky take the lead, to push him slightly until Steve takes a step back. They're still touching from chest to hip, so when Bucky moves to the side, Steve does the same, lets Bucky drag him with him when the omega steps back again, sways to the side.
It's just four steps, repeat, and Steve remembers them from what must have been a lifetime ago, Bucky teaching him in the other's cramped living room. He can't have been older than fifteen, and yet Bucky had been taller than him already, broader, had taken Steve's hand and told him that it'd be important for Steve to know how to dance.
Omega girls loved that, Bucky had added with a wink and fifteen year old Steve, who had still been convinced he'd present as an omega as well, had chuckled, but had Bucky allowed to drag him closer, not paying attention to the lesson, but to the other's warmth, the feeling of Bucky's hands on his hips.
All those years later, it's still that which Steve concentrates on. One of Bucky's hands is following the line of his spine, down and then up again, the other one plays with the short hairs in the nape of Steve's neck, their lips are still brushing over and over again, it's almost, just almost enough to make Steve forget to move again.
Not that Bucky would let him, because while Steve has to think, to remember, dancing seems to be as easy as breathing to the other.
Without Steve noticing, they have started turning, or rather, Bucky is making them turn, adding a little force when he gently pushes Steve back, pulls him even closer half a second later, and they're swaying and dancing and waltzing, and Bucky makes even Steve feel as if he had done this a thousand times before.
Although he misses the other's breath on his lips the second he pulls away, Steve still does it. He can't rest his head on Bucky's shoulder, like he should be able, so instead, he leans against the omega's chest a little, listening to Bucky's heart beating. Bucky moves along with him, turns his head so he can press a kiss to Steve's temple.
"Wanna know a secret?" Bucky's voice is soft, almost too quiet to make out the words; Steve nods against the omega's chest. "I wanted to punch that bastard in the face for at least a year."
He doesn't know what he expected, something romantic, maybe, a kind of confession, this secret, though, makes Steve laugh, the sound muffled slightly by Bucky's shirt, his body.
"Well, glad to be of assistance then, darlin'", Steve answers and can feel Bucky's grin through their bond, bright and sunny and a little bit teasing.
"Darling, huh?"
Steve might be blushing just a little, his cheeks heating up, but he doesn't pull away, just tightens his fingers around Bucky's hips. "Well, pal hardly seems to be appropriate anymore, does it?"
It's Bucky's turn to laugh now, and he does, fingernails scratching over the skin on Steve's neck and making him shiver.
"Guess you've got a point there, doll", the omega mutters, half into Steve's hair, chuckling when Steve pushes away to look up at Bucky, raising an eyebrow.
"Doll?", he asks; Bucky is grinning and they're still dancing. "You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm your big, strong, manly alpha."
Steve expects Bucky to laugh, maybe even to miss a step or two, but the other never does, just looks down at Steve for a few moments, feet still moving to make them sway.
"Yeah, you are", he replies, kisses him with a smile on his lips, that seems to rub off on Steve, staying behind when Bucky pulls away again.
And there is nothing Steve can think of to say.
So he doesn't say anything, just keeps dancing, looking up at Bucky and licking his lips, concentrating on feeling instead of talking. Even before their bond, Steve has always been able to read Bucky so well, but now he doesn't even have to look for clues anymore, Bucky's whole being is laid out for him to see, to feel.
"I love you", Steve finally does say; they're still dancing and Bucky's eyes are glittering, yet are still so soft. "You know that, don't you?"
There is a supernova in hidden in Bucky's eyes, almost bright enough to blind Steve, and in the not-quite privacy of his own mind, Steve promises himself that he'll start telling the omega those words more often, every day.
"I do", Bucky whispers, words carried from between the other's lips only by Bucky's breath. His arms tighten around Steve's neck for a second, then slide over his shoulders and up so Bucky can cup his cheeks, just holding him for a few moments.
Steve expects a kiss, but it never comes; the omega leans in and rests their foreheads together, both their eyes closing.
They're not dancing anymore, and Steve isn't sure when exactly they have stopped, but it's better that way, because like this, their noses aren't bumping against each other, Bucky's fingers not slipping.
"I dunno what I'd do without you, Stevie", the omega mutters, fingertips brushing over Steve's skin as if he was made out of precious silk, fragile glass, not flesh and bone.
"Well, maybe find an alpha who would punch people for you instead of letting you do it?"
Steve is joking, but there might be a little sadness clinging to his voice; it would be what Bucky deserved, having someone to take care of him, and Steve knows that he won't ever be the person to do that for the other.
Bucky chuckles quietly, then tilts his head so he can brush their lips together, kissing the corner of Steve's mouth, then his cheek. Maybe it's meant to shut Steve up, but if so, it doesn't work.
"You wouldn't even have to work, so you wouldn't even be tempted to go around knocking out colleagues", he adds and smiles so Bucky won't pull away to tell him to shut up.
"Would I be one of those omegas who sit around all day and don't do anything but brush their hair?", Bucky asks, and it's good to hear the omega's voice soft and teasing, going along with the joke.
"Most definitely." Steve is picturing it in his mind, Bucky in expensive clothes and well-fed, always warm and never forced to share body heat under all the blankets they have so he won't freeze, healthy and happy.
It hurts, even more than he would have thought it to.
"And your alpha would cater to your every whim, spoil you rotten", Steve adds, and tightens his hold on Bucky's hips a little, as if to remind himself that no matter what he is saying, Bucky is still his.
The omega hums, seems to think, and Steve wants to tell Bucky he loves him again - if he could he'd say it a hundred times more, would just keep repeating it until Bucky had the words ingrained in every cell of his body – but he doesn't. The omega knows it, and Steve rather uses his breath for other things, like peppering kisses on Bucky's cheeks, nose, the bruised skin of his jaw.
He's all but forgotten that the other still hasn't answered, but then Bucky speaks, his voice soft but steady, every word spoken clearly, deliberately.
"And I'd be fucking miserable, because they would've taken that precious, gentle, skinny boy from Brooklyn that I fell in love with when I was still a kid, away from me."
There are no sounds except for them breathing for a moment; Steve does not know what to say, even if the words make him feel warm, mellow, safe, so he does the one thing he can think of right away. Bucky still won't kiss him, so Steve leans in and does it for the other, presses their lips together and kisses the omega, pouring every bit of love and trust and devotion into this one kiss.
It's passionate without being heated, loving without being too soft, and when they break apart, they're both a little bit breathless, but still stay close enough to feel the other's heat on their skin.
It's so clear what Bucky is trying to say, and Steve can't help but feel guilty, a little dumb – of course Bucky is able to feel how worried he gets sometimes about not being good enough for the other, about Bucky, at some point in the future, wishing he had taken another alpha.
He knows it's stupid, but he cannot help it, although Steve has always known that those thoughts would hurt the omega.
Steve's eyes have slipped close at some point, and he doesn't make the effort to open them again, concentrates on their bond and Bucky's breath on his lips while he speaks.
"I get it", he mutters and means it. "I get it and I'll, you know. I'll try to stop. No more constant worrying, no more dates and stuff…"
Bucky chuckles, and the sounds is sweet and cheerful; he turns his head, ducks, so he can nuzzle the side of Steve's neck, placing a little kiss on his jaw. Steve's eyes open, and he reaches up to thread one of his hands into Bucky's soft hair.
"That's not what I meant at all", Bucky says and pulls back slowly, his eyes bright and sparkling and Steve loves him so much it hurts. "I'm all for dates. More dancing and drinking and going out, you know how much I love that. Just… just no more doubting, Stevie. Can you do that for me?"
Before he knows it, Steve is nodding, pushing a strand of hair out of Bucky's face. It's too long, and for a split second, Steve mourns the face that they don't have money for the omega to go to the barber shop two blocks away, but then he pushes the thought away. No more doubting Bucky had said, so Steve will do his best to give the other that.
"Anything you want, Bucky", he replies, and Bucky smiles at him so wide that Steve is afraid that Bucky's lip will start to bleed again, but the other doesn't seem to care, just wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close.
"You. Just want you", Bucky answers, and the words make Steve feel as if he was so light only the other's arms were keeping him on the ground.
"That's good", Steve mumbles into the fabric of Bucky's shirt and loves the fact that Bucky can't see him smile, but can surely feel it. "Because you have me already."