Steve couldn't handle Bucky in uniform, as embarrassing and cliche it sounded, something about his smug grin all washed up and a green button down coat made him flustered. He was visiting a lot more as of late, making it worse since nine times out of ten he was wearing that damn uniform, opening the door with the key under the rock and just letting himself in. Well not today, Steve had moved the key, knowing that Bucky would find it, but at least it should buy him some time to prepare.
Looking into the mirror, he straightened his white t-shirt, with a heavy sigh. It seemed no matter what he ate he couldn't keep a pound, or grow an inch. He was positively and absolutely puny, a few scraps still on his cheek from his last beating for standing up to a guy who tried to peek up some lady's skirt. The bruising on his upper chest was still sore to the touch, but it had been worth it. The pride of what was doing what was right in his heart always made up for the soreness of his bones.
With a light tap on his face, he went over to the living room, picking up his sketch book. Picture after picture all he had been drawing lately was Bucky in that damn uniform, hair combed back with the authoritative hat and all. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't storm the muse out of his head. That Bucky could come home, to his home, everyday giving him a kiss on the cheek and calling him 'mine'. He shut the book, and tossed it to the coffee table with a thud, shaking his head bitterly. Even if Bucky like men, Steve would most definitely wouldn't be his type, hell who's type was scrawny and sick? He stared at the ceiling, wondering if he would come today, and how soon, feeling somewhat ashamed for making Bucky worried. He had been saying he had been having a fever when in reality he couldn't control blushing, seemingly another flaw in his tapestry of personal failures. He had his eyes shut, when he heard the door open.
"Hey Steve, someone put your rock under the porch," he called out in that smooth voice that he knew too well. He opened his eyes to a smiling Bucky, waving around the spare key as he spoke. "I'll put it back to the normal spot, but you gotta be careful about that." He turned sharply back outside, speaking over his shoulder. "There are some real crooks out there who'd rob you blind."
Steve placed his hands on the top of his head, closing his eyes and sinking into the couch. Of course he was in uniform. "Thanks Bucky, I'll be sure to be on the look out," he smiled to himself as if imagining the heroics in his mind, "if I catch anyone, I'll just knock the crime out of them."
He heard him laugh, that damn boyish laugh, as the door shut and was locked. "Just make sure to call me to get on some of the action," Bucky replied affectionately nudging Steve's exposed side.
With a small yelp, he looked up at Bucky and that was enough to trigger the blushing. He could feel the heat rise from his neck, consuming his cheeks in a matter of seconds. He turned his head, knowing that Bucky's eyes were now glued to him. It would be the fifth day he'd had this 'fever' and that would mean that he would try to get him to go to the doctor's. And he definitely couldn't have that.
"Still sick?" he asked, sitting down next to him, arm carelessly going around his shoulders. He lifted Steve's chin his other hand, getting a good look at his face. "It's been five days Steve, maybe you should go see a doctor or.."
"I'm fine, I feel fine." He tried a smile, though he knew his face was still warm. It was pointless, but it was better than admitting the truth, he didn't want to ruin this friendship. He had lost everything he had cared about, but he'd be damned if he lost Bucky.
He squinted his eyes, hand still cupped around his chin. "Don't lie to me, you know how that drives me crazy."
Steve noticed that he must've put his hat up, his hair slightly disheveled. It was mostly slicked back, with a few loose hairs falling into his face, when his eyes wandered he made contact with the Bucky's causing an even worse reddening.
"I'm not sick, and that's the truth Buck." He grabbed his hand, and placed it back down to his side, trying to stay composed. "Worrying will give you wrinkles y'know."
With a chuckle and a pat on the back, Bucky stood up walking to the other side of the coffee table. "And we wouldn't want that now, would we?" With a playful glint in his eyes, he saw the sketch book and picked it up.
Immediately standing, Steve just ordered, "Don't." He walked over there, grabbing at it while Bucky just lifted it higher out of his reach. "This isn't funny, those ones are personal."
"Oh, come on Steve you let me see all your drawings," he made a pout, "you're really talented y'know, every thought about becoming an artist?"
"Bucky," Steve gave an exasperated sigh. "C'mon, let's just go get a bite to eat or something."
With a shrug, he set the book down roughly, it plopping open to one of his uniform sketches.
His heart went rushing, not sure what to do, watching helplessly as Bucky's eyebrows raised.
"Is that me?" he asked, a tone of surprise in his voice.
Maybe it was from a burst of panic or adrenaline, but Steve did something rather unexpected. He reached up, pulling on Bucky's collar to get him down to his level and kissed him. It was brief, nothing more than a peck on the lips, but coming from a man who'd been in more back alley fights he could remember there was nothing as frightening compared to what he expected from Bucky's reaction. Here he did it, giving into desire and sullying the most important friendship to him.
Opening his mouth as to explain, Bucky cupped his hands around his face, kissing him in full. He withdrew, eyes huge, as if he had done a horrendous and horrible crime.
"Steve," he blinked a few times, as if he was hitting a realization. "Is this why you've been so.."
"Oh god, yes," the confession feeling like blessing.
Bucky kissed him again, softly. "That make that fever feel better?"
"If I said no would you do it again?" Steve, tugged on his tie, Bucky biting his lower lip in return.
He slipped one of his hands to his hand, with a devilish grin, "I think I know what'll make you feel better," Bucky began leading him to Steve's bedroom.
His heart nearly pounded out of his chest, not quite believing what was happening. "Bucky," he stopped for a moment. Bucky turned around, still holding his hand, with a concerned demeanor.
"We shouldn't...you shouldn't." He gestured to himself. "You can do better than this."
Bucky's grip tightened, "Don't you do that, don't you go putting yourself down," he kneeled over, pressing his forehead against Steve's. "Who gives a damn if I could do better, I couldn't find a better man if I searched for the rest of my life, than Steve Rogers." He kissed him again, biting the bottom of Steve's lips."If you want this, and I want this, then why the hell shouldn't we?"
Steve hesitated, soaking up Bucky's words, and understanding why he had always been such a hit with the ladies. He smiled, and nodded, letting Bucky lead him to the bedroom, where he shut the door behind them.
He wasn't sure what was going to happen next, though since Bucky had turned his back as he was undressing himself, he quietly sat on the edge of the bed contemplating taking off his shirt. Bucky looked over his shoulder, giving a grin, as he walked over to Steve, kissing him on the neck.
"You want me to?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow, his fingers playing with the bottom of the plain white shirt. He had only his underwear on himself. With a curt nod, Bucky began to undress Steve, slowly and kissing the spots of skin that appeared. He glanced up him, looking at the bruise on his upper chest. "Who the hell did this?"
"Just some guy," Steve slipped out of his jeans easily, giving Bucky a little kick. He felt his nerves stiffen yet slip. Brushing the loose hairs out of Bucky's face, "don't worry about me Buck," he gave a weak smile. "You've got enough on your plate."
Bucky gave Steve a slight nudge on his chest, sliding up the bed. He nibbled down his earlobe to his collarbone, being especially gentle around the bruise. Fingers intertwined, they locked lips, Steve moving his hands to his sides, feeling the curves of Bucky's body, still mesmerized how right he felt, as if they were designed to fit together, to feel his sweat, and to run his hands through his hair.
Bucky looked down on Steve who was on his back, giving him a nip on ear. "I'm going to kiss every inch of your naked body, Steve Rogers, until you're moaning out my name."
With a startled jump from Bucky's hand tugging off his boxers, Steve reached up, giving a long kiss. "Then you better get to work, Barnes."
With a grin, he started from Steve's chest, leaving a trail of light teeth marks until he made his way down to his cock, placing his hand on his hip to steady him. Steve grabbed the sheets, straining to not thrust forward, feeling the warmth of his mouth on him. He went about it slowly and gently, keeping one hand on his hips and using the other to stroke the lower part of his shaft, teasingly.
Arching his back, Steve groaned, his hips helpless to move against Bucky's grip. "Bucky, for fuck's sake," his chest heaved up and down, the air seemingly pressed out of his lungs. Bucky's mouth went further down on him, engulfing him in wet heat. Succumbing to the pressure, Steve released, feeling his body relax from the last of the moans of ecstasy.
Bucky smirked, as he rolled to the side of the bed, spitting and wiping off his mouth. He crawled back up to Steve, kissing him tenderly, lips red and swollen.
"Feeling better?" he asked, wrapping his arms around him, leaving his head on his shoulder.
"Better than better," Steve blinked happily, leaning his head against Bucky's. If only this could never change. He bit down the thought of Bucky going off to war, knowing that he couldn't lose him, not when they were laying intertwined so peacefully.
If he goes, I go. And that was the end of that.