A/N: Just in case you missed it, I posted a Valentine's chapter a couple of weeks ago called Be My Valentine (I know, SUPER original title there). It was originally posted out of sequence and I have now moved it to chapter 7. It doesn't affect the plot, just some fluff and smut, so if you were feeling the need for more of either, check it out.

Art

-Brooklyn, Late Summer 1937-

Bucky found Steve sitting at the table sketching when he came home from work. The windows were open to let the breeze in, but it was still hot enough that Steve had stripped down to his underwear. Bucky bent down to kiss him on the cheek, setting the mail on the table. "Hi, Sweetheart."

Steve turned to kiss him on the lips. "How was work?" he asked, sorting through the small stack of letters.

Bucky stripped off his shirt and went to the refrigerator to get a beer. "Hot! What's for dinner?" Steve didn't respond. Bucky turned to see him holding a letter with a look of dread on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I got the tuition bill for school next semester," Steve groaned, handing it to Bucky.

Bucky scanned the letter, stunned by the total. "Woah, it's that much?"

"It went up and I don't have the money to cover the difference," Steve told him. "I was already going to be cutting it close."

Bucky opened the beer and sat down at the table. "What? I thought you said your Mom had saved up for this."

"She had, but I had to pay for the funeral and her medical bills, then moving expenses and art supplies," Steve explained. "I was hoping I could save up the rest, but with school I can't work as much as I thought."

"How much are you short?" Bucky asked.

"About $25 dollars," Steve moaned. "I'll never come up with that kind of money in time!"

"Well that's not so bad," Bucky said. "If we cut back on a few things and I pick up a few extra shifts this month, we can do it."

Steve shook his head. "Thanks, but I can't ask you to do that."

Bucky sipped his beer. "Who's asking me?"

"I can manage it on my own." Steve told him sharply.

Bucky held his tongue. He thought they had settled this argument when they moved in together, but it seemed like Steve was still hell bent on doing everything himself. He took a sip of his beer, considering the situation. If he pressed the issue now, Steve would just dig in his heels, but he couldn't stop Bucky from picking up an extra shift or two. What he did with the money was his own damn business.

"It's too hot to argue about this," he said to change the subject. "Let's just eat dinner and go for walk."

"Yeah, you're right." Steve agreed, opening the refrigerator. "It's too hot to cook. You want a chicken sandwich?"

"That sounds good," Bucky said. He sat back to finish his beer while Steve made dinner. Steve was stubborn, but maybe he would warm up to the idea if Bucky just left things alone for a few days. At the very least it would make the rest of the month a little more pleasant.

Steve wiped the dust cloth idly over the display in the front of the bookstore. Bucky hadn't brought up his tuition again, but Steve knew he wouldn't let it go so easily. The way things were going, Steve was almost tempted to take him up on his offer. He had been up half the night trying to think of some way to make up the difference, but he was at a loss. Nothing they owned was worth the amount of money he needed and he didn't have time to work anymore than he already did without his school work suffering. He knew Bucky would wouldn't mind, but he had done so much already. He couldn't keep relying on Bucky to save him every time his back was against the wall.

"Steven!" Mr. Zimmerman said sharply.

Steve's head shot up. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I asked you to reshelve the books," Mr. Zimmerman repeated. "You have your head in the clouds today!"

Steve set down the cloth and hurried over to get the books. "I'm sorry. I have some problems at school and I got in an argument with my roommate yesterday."

Mr. Zimmerman frowned. "Oh, what sort of problems?"

"I'm a little short of my tuition," Steve told him, standing on his toes to put a book on the top shelf. "Bucky offered to help, but I can't ask him to do that. He's already helped me out so much."

"If he's offering then I don't think he would mind," Mr. Zimmerman said gently.

Steve shook his head, bending down to fix the bottom shelf. "No he wouldn't, but that's not fair to him."

Mr. Zimmerman tapped his pen on the counter. "Well, perhaps there is something I can do." Steve started to protest, but Mr. Zimmerman held up a hand. "You've been working here for a long time and I think I owe you a raise."

"Thank you!" Steve exclaimed, feeling the tension in gut ease a bit.

"You're a good worker, Steven. You've earned it," Mr. Zimmerman said with a proud smile.

Steve returned to his filing with a bounce in his step. He couldn't wait to tell Bucky. This wouldn't solve everything, but the extra money would certainly help. Maybe there was hope after all. As he finished reshelving the last of of the books, Becky rushed into the store.

"There you are!" she cried.

Steve set the books down and ran over to her. She was out of breath and her hair was disheveled. "Becky, what's wrong?"

"Bucky was in an accident at work," she cried, her voice shaking. "Mom sent me to get you!"

Steve felt his breath catch in his throat. He looked at Mr. Zimmerman.

"Yes, I'll manage here. Go see to your friend."

Steve hurried out the door and followed Becky down the street. "What happened?" he asked, struggling to keep pace with her.

"I don't know!" she said, leading him down into the subway. "We got a call saying he had been taken to the hospital. Mom went to see him and sent me to get you."

Steve paid the fare and they ran for the train, rushing through the doors just before they closed. The hospital was only two stops away but to Steve it seemed like years. What had Bucky been doing at work? He was off today and he had told Steve he would be at the gym.

Becky laid a trembling hand on his arm. Trying to keep his breathing steady, Steve reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. The last thing he needed right now was an asthma attack. If something serious had happened, he would be have to be strong for Bucky's family. He hugged Becky tighter and pushed the thought out of his head. Bucky was all he had left. He had to be alright.

The train stopped and they rushed out of the car, practically running the last half block to the hospital. They stopped at the desk to ask where Bucky had been taken and ran up the stairs. When they arrived, Bucky was sitting up in the bed having a spirited argument with his mother. His arm and hand were heavily bandaged, but otherwise he looked fine.

"It's not that bad Mom!"

"They sent you to the hospital Bucky!" Mrs. Barnes countered. "The doctor said you could have died it they hadn't gotten you here as quickly as they did. You're lucky you didn't lose an arm!"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's exaggerating. I'll be fine in a few of weeks."

"And you'll be staying at home until then," Mrs. Barnes told him firmly.

"Bucky!" Steve cried, gasping for breath.

"Steve! Did you run here! Sit down before you have an asthma attack!"

Mrs. Barnes poured Steve a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed. Steve collapsed into the chair shaking from the excitement. "What happened?"

"I slipped and cut my hand," Bucky told him. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Steve sipped the water slowly as he tried to catch his breath. He wanted to ask Bucky what had even been doing at work, but he held his tongue. He knew exactly what Bucky had been up to and they couldn't have this argument in front of his family.

"I told him he's coming home so that I can look after him," Mrs. Barnes said, rubbing Steve's back with strong calming strokes. "You're welcome too of course."

"Mom, I told you, I don't need you to baby me!" Bucky protested.

"I can take care of him," Steve offered. "It's not like he's completely helpless."

Mrs. Barnes shook her head. "Steve dear, you have work and school. You don't need to worry about this."

"I'm fine!" Bucky insisted. "I just need a little help getting dressed."

"It's no trouble," Steve assured her. "And my mom was a nurse, I know how to change the bandage."

"Fine," Mrs. Barnes agreed reluctantly. "But you are coming over for dinner this week, no argument."

"Fine," Bucky muttered. "It was my night to cook anyway."

Steve helped Bucky out of the car and up the stairs to their apartment. It was only a few blocks, but they were both exhausted and Bucky's father had insisted on driving them. Steve opened the door to let them in. He helped Bucky sit down at the table and went to the sink to get Bucky a glass of water. He shook a pain pill out of the bottle and handed it to Bucky. Bucky popped it in his mouth and drank the glass of water, steeling himself for the impending fight.

"Before you say anything, it wasn't my fault," Bucky declared as Steve knelt down to take off Bucky's shoes. "A guy tripped and knocked into me."

"And why were you at work anyway?" Steve demanded, leading Bucky back to the bedroom. "You told me you were going to the gym."

"They needed a few people to cover some shifts so I volunteered," Bucky said.

Steve sighed. "This was about my tuition, wasn't it?"

"Yes, can we please fight about this tomorrow?" Bucky pleaded. "I'm tired and I feel stupid because now I have to pay the hospital bill."

"Bucky, I'll be fine. Please just worry about yourself." Steve grabbed the frame of his bed to drag it next to Bucky's for the night. Bucky took the other end with his good hand.

"I'm not helpless here either," Bucky said obstinately.

Steve smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then you shouldn't have any problems getting undressed for bed."

Bucky scowled at him. "Stop being a jerk and help take my clothes off."

Steve chuckled, unbuttoning Bucky's shirt. "Did you want me to help you put anything on?"

"I'm too tired tonight, Sweetheart. This actually hurts a lot more than I said," Bucky admitted as Steve helped him remove his pants. He had played down the severity of his injury to his mother so that she would let him come home with Steve, but he had been worried.

Steve helped Bucky settle into the bed, using a spare blanket to prop up his arm. He undressed and crawled in beside him, laying his head on Bucky's chest. Bucky felt Steve squeeze him tightly and put an arm around his slender shoulders. After the accident as he watched the blood gush out of his arm with a sick fascination, his only thought had been what would happen to Steve if he died. Steve was strong but he had been through so much already losing his mother. Bucky couldn't bear to think of him having to go through that again.

"I'm ok," he whispered soothingly, kissing the top of Steve's head.

Steve curled his fingers in Bucky's chest hair. "When Becky told me you were hurt, for a minute, I was afraid I might lose you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bucky rubbed his back gently. "Something stupid."

"Probably," Steve muttered, nestling his head against Bucky's chest. Bucky held him as they drifted off to sleep.

Bucky spent the next day in bed resting, but after that he started to get bored. The factory had insisted that he stay home until the stitches were removed, but aside from needing Steve's help to get dressed, he was doing just fine without the use of his left arm. Steve had taken over most of the chores so there wasn't much for him to do anyway. The only thing that bothered him was sitting at home alone all day while Steve was gone. Growing up with three siblings, Bucky had been lucky to get more than a few minutes to himself. Whenever he wanted some quiet he would go to Steve's but even then he was never really by himself. He had never realized how boring the silence could be.

A few days later, Bucky and Steve sat at the table eating breakfast. Steve had made coffee, but it was too hot to used the stove any more than necessary, so he had poured them both a bowl of cereal. Bucky preferred something more filling in the morning, but this was something he could fix himself if he got hungry later.

"So what are you doing today?" Bucky asked, sipping his coffee.

"I have class, until two," Steve told him, tilting his bowl to scoop up the last of the milk. "Life drawing, then art history."

Bucky finished his coffee. "Well since I'm off of work I'll walk you there."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I feel fine," Bucky assured him. "And I could use a little exercise. I can't go to the gym and I've barely left the house since this happened."

"Ok, while you're out can you pick up some coffee? I used the last of it this morning."

Bucky nodded. "Anything else?"

Steve shook his head. "No, we're going to your parents' for dinner so we'll probably come home with half a chicken."

They finished their breakfast and got ready to leave. Steve helped Bucky with his shoes, then stood up and pulled him into a deep, hungry kiss. Bucky slipped his right arm around Steve's waist as Steve clung to him. Seeing Bucky in the hospital had rattled him and Steve had been extremely affectionate the last few days. Bucky felt bad for frightening him like that but he was enjoying the attention.

Finally Steve let him go and headed out the door. It was hot, but after being cooped up in the house, it was wonderful to be outside. His bandage itched in the heat, but otherwise the sun felt invigorating. The school was close and Bucky found himself a bit disappointed that the walk wasn't longer. Bucky followed Steve up to the classroom to say goodbye.

"Have a good day, punk."

"I'll see you later, jerk," Steve called, hurrying into the room. "Don't forget the coffee."

Bucky wandered back down the hall slowly, taking a minute to admire some of the art pieces on display. As he neared the stairs he noticed an older woman with unruly gray hair staring at him from down the hall. Bucky paused.

"Can I help you?" he asked, trying to be polite. He knew these artist types could be a little strange and he didn't want to offend her. She approached, still staring at him curiously.

"Are you a student?" she asked.

"No ma'am, my friend goes here," Bucky told her. "I was just walking him to class."

"Oh, well, you seem to be an impressive physical specimen," she mused, walking a circle around him. "Wrestler?"

"Boxer," Bucky told her, unable to hide a grin.

"Oh, I see," she mumbled, nodding her head in approval. "I think you'll do nicely. I teach a drawing class and my model for the studio tomorrow is ill."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He was flattered, but he had never modeled before. "What would I have to do?"

"You just need to stand in the middle of the room for a few hours and let the students draw you."

Bucky considered the offer. Compared to boxing or working at the factory, it sounded easy. "Do I have to pose?"

"I think a boxing stance would be interesting," she suggested.

Bucky nodded, slowly as he mulled over the idea. "What should I wear?"

"It's a nude study," she said casually.

"You mean they'd be drawing me naked?" Bucky swallowed. "Thanks, but I don't really think I could." He started to walk away.

"I would pay you of course," she called. "And if you do well, I might be able to use on a regular basis."

Bucky stopped, glancing back in the direction that Steve had gone. Money was already tight and he couldn't really afford to turn down something like this just landing in his lap. Besides, he was bored and this was certainly more interesting than sitting around the apartment alone.

"Ok, what time tomorrow?"

"Nine in the morning. Bring a bathrobe." She hurried off down the hall without another word.

Trying to quell the flutter in his stomach, Bucky left to head to the store. Injured or not, if he forgot the coffee, Steve would have his head. He didn't know what he was going to tell Steve, but they needed the money. Bucky couldn't let him drop out of school anymore than he could stand back and watch him get beaten up in alley. Steve needed his help and he was going to get it whether he liked it or not.

The next morning Bucky finished his coffee as Steve started to clear the dishes. He still hadn't figured out how to tell Steve about the modeling job. As an art student, he certainly he wouldn't object to Bucky posing nude for a class, but Bucky didn't feel like arguing about money again. He would tell Steve later after he had something to show for it.

"Do you want to walk me to school again today?" Steve asked, running the water.

Bucky felt a surge of panic. "I'm feeling a little tired today," he lied.

A satisfied smirk spread over Steve's face. He leaned over the table looked seductively at Bucky. "Did I wear you out last night?"

Bucky stood up and kissed him. "Well I'm not complaining."

Steve took his empty mug and returned to the dishes. "I'll be home for lunch, but I have to work this evening so you're on your own for dinner."

"I'll go eat dinner with my parents."

Steve finished with the dishes and dried his hands. He gathered his things and headed for the door, pausing to kiss Bucky before he left. "Have a good day Sweetheart."

Bucky reached up and stroked his cheek gently. "You too."

Steve smiled and headed out the door. Bucky waited for a minute to give Steve a head start so they wouldn't run into each other. He went to the bedroom and stuffed his bathrobe in his gym bag. He took the bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and took a swig to calm his nerves. His mother would faint if she saw him drinking this early, but he needed all the help he could get. Grabbing his bag as the whiskey hit his stomach, he took a deep breath and headed off to the school.

Steve settled into his seat and took out his materials. They were going to be sketching a nude model today. He was a little nervous, but if he wanted to be an artist, knowing how to draw people was an important skill. He sharpened his pencils and opened his sketchbook to a fresh sheet of paper as the professor came in to start class.

"Good morning everyone," she greeted them. "Today we will be starting our nude study. As an artist, familiarity with the human form is essential. Remember, you are trying not only to capture the form or your model, but their spirit. Every human being has a story and it is your job as an artist to tell that story without words. So, let's please thank our model for today, Mr. Barnes. I think you will find him to be quite an interesting subject."

Steve's head shot up. His mouth went dry as he saw Bucky walk into the room wearing a bathrobe. Their eyes met for a second but Bucky looked away quickly. He turned away to face the wall as he untied his robe. The fabric down the hard muscles of his shoulders, revealing his rippling back and firm round buttocks. Steve felt his pants grow tight and quickly raised his hand.

"May I be excused for a moment," he asked.

"Be quick please," the professor said. "You only have a few hours to work."

Grabbing his jacket to hide the telltale bulge, Steve hurried to the washroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, leaning against the sink as he waited for his erection to subside. He had already been nervous about drawing a nude model but with Bucky in there he wasn't sure he could go through with this. Taking a deep breath, Steve stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"You're an artist Steve. Just draw your model. This is art, there's nothing to be nervous about, this is just about your art."

It wasn't just about art this time though; it was about Bucky. This was usually a part of Bucky that only he got to see, a part that he had to keep secret. This was a rare opportunity to share Bucky with the world in some small way. He knew the curves of Bucky's body better than any of the other students could hope to in a few hours. He might not be able to tell anyone about Bucky, but he could immortalize him. Steve dried his face and head back to the class, ready to show the world his Bucky.

Bucky kept his eyes on the wall as Steve hurried out of the room. He hadn't realized Steve was in this class but there was no backing out now. Taking a deep breath Bucky dropped into a boxing stance as the class set to work. Steve returned a few minutes later and started sketching furiously. Bucky tried to ignore the scratching of pencil on paper and pictured himself in the ring. Being naked in a room full of art students felt strange but at least this pose was comfortable for him. When he boxed he was practically naked anyway. He focused on the space just beyond his fists. The sounds of the pencils became cheering fans as he tried to visualize some phantom opponent.

As the class continued Bucky found his focus starting slip. Every now and then the professor told him to rest for a minute, but he was still surprised at how much strength it took to hold his pose. After a while his attention started to wander and he looked around the room at the students. Most of the students looked at him like a statue, looking only at the lines of his body. He no longer felt so exposed, in fact, he started to feel nearly invisible. He might as well be a bowl of fruit for all they seemed to care. Only Steve seemed to look at him with anything besides cold objectivity, studying Bucky intently.

When the class finally ended, Bucky was exhausted. He was was confident in his stamina, but standing perfectly still for so long was more difficult than he had expected. As the students packed up their materials, he took a minute to stretch. He put his robe back on and went to change clothes, though after that it seemed a bit silly to cover up for the short walk down the hallway. As he opened the door, Steve came running out behind him. He pushed him into the small washroom, locking the door behind them.

"I thought you were tired," he said heatedly.

"I was just a little embarrassed to tell you," Bucky explained. "The usual model got sick and she saw me yesterday when I walked you to school. She paid me pretty well, I couldn't really turn it down."

Steve scowled at him. "Is this about my tuition?"

"Yes it is," Bucky admitted. "I just didn't want to fight about it this morning. I had no idea you were in the class."

Steve started to say something but stopped, glancing at the locked door. "Alright. We'll talk about this at home. Do you need help getting dressed?"

"I might need help tying my shoes, but I think I can manage the rest if you want to wait for me outside," Bucky said.

Steve didn't move. He looked at Bucky, biting his lip. "You know it was really difficult to focus today."

Bucky felt a shiver run down his back as Steve's fingers played with the knot of his sash. Licking his lips, he glanced over to be sure the door was locked. "You seemed pretty focused to me."

Steve grinned playfully, tugging at the sash of Bucky's robe. "Well, I couldn't stop thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you."

"Like what?" Bucky asked in a husky voice.

Steve stood up on his toes to kiss Bucky, untying the sash and letting the robe fall open. He reached down to wrap a hand around Bucky's cock, stroking it gently as he kissed his way slowly down Bucky's neck to his chest. Bucky felt himself stiffen, his body tingly with each kiss. Steve's tongue slowly circled a nipple. Sucking at it gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip of Bucky's cock. Bucky jerked, thrusting into Steve's firm grip. Putting a hand on Steve's back to pull him close, Bucky leaned into kiss him. Aching with need, he rubbed his cock against Steve's pants, the feel of the rough cotton against his skin sending shivers through him. Steve arched into him one last time before pushing him back against the wall with a firm shove. Bucky felt a thrill of excitement at seeing Steve take charge. He leaned back against the wall letting Steve take the lead.

Kissing a trail down Bucky's stomach, Steve sank to his knees. Bending down, he kissed his way from Bucky's knee up his inner thigh. Bucky bit his lip to stifle a moan, remembering that they were in public. The door was locked, but that didn't mean they could be careless. Steve sucked gently on the head of his cock, sliding his mouth down to swallow the entire length. Bucky's legs started to tremble as the wet heat of Steve's mouth enveloped him. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself as Steve licked and sucked, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He reached up and stroked Bucky's balls with a feathery touch before gently rolling them between his fingers. Stifling a groan, Bucky let his head fall back against the wall. Steve drew back letting Bucky's erection slip out of his mouth with a wet smack. He leaned in, dragging his tongue slowly up the underside of Bucky's cock from base to tip. Closing his lips around the head, he flicked his tongue quickly at the oozing slit. Bucky felt his groin tighten as he exploded into Steve's mouth. Steve sucked him clean, eagerly swallowing the gooey mess. He sat back, licking his lips.

"So are you still upset with me?" Bucky asked, his heart still racing.

"Yeah, I am," Steve told him reaching for Bucky's shorts. Bucky stepped into them, grinning as Steve pulled them up and buttoned them.

"If that's how you act when you're upset we need to fight more often!"

"I had to get that out of my system." Steve grumbled, helping Bucky with his pants. "I can't be angry with you when I want to lick your chest!"

Bucky laughed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

"We're still going to talk about this later," Steve warned him sternly.

"Can we do this after we fight too?" Bucky asked. Steve didn't answer, but Bucky could see a thin smile on his lips as he bent down to tie Bucky's shoes.

Steve dropped his things by the door as they entered the apartment and went to the kitchen. Their rendezvous in the washroom had only postponed the inevitable, but he still didn't want to argue on an empty stomach.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the modeling job," Bucky said, taking a seat at the table.

"Why did you even feel like you had to do that?" Steve said as he sliced up the leftover ham for sandwiches.

"With things the way they are, I couldn't really afford to turn it down," Bucky said. "She said she could use me a few times a week while I'm off work. I can almost cover your tuition at that!"

Steve slapped the knife down on the counter. "You don't have to take care of me, Bucky. I'm not your wife."

"I know that," Bucky said with an exasperated sigh. "But you're a good artist Steve. I don't want you to have to give that up."

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself just so I can draw," Steve snapped.

"Stipping down for a bunch of artists is hardly going to kill me."

Steve shoved the plate toward Bucky. "No but that cut on your arm could have!"

"This could have happened anytime," Bucky argued.

Steve sat down and tore a large bite out of his sandwich, chewing fiercely while he tried to think of how to respond. Seeing Bucky in the hospital had frightened him. He would never have forgiven himself if Bucky had died trying to help him.

Bucky set his sandwich down on the plate. "Sweetheart, I know you're tough, it's one of the things I love about you, but you've worked so hard for this and I just wanted to help.

"And what are you giving up to do it?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," Bucky told him. "I never had a dream like this. I just wanted to get a job, move out of my parents' place, and find someone special." Bucky reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "Seeing you happy is my dream. So what if we stop worrying about who's paying for what and who's supporting who."

Steve put down his sandwich, staring curiously at Bucky. "What do you mean?"

"That's how this should work, right? If you were a dame I'd be supporting us while you took care of the house. It's the same thing."

Steve looked am, confused. "Are you saying I need to start doing all the housework?"

"No!" Bucky said quickly. "I'm saying what if we were just in this together? Stop worrying about who does more and just do what's best for both of us. Like this week, you've been taking care of me while my arm heals just because I needed your help. Why can't I do that for you?"

"That's different," Steve insisted.

"No it's not!" Bucky argued. "This isn't a competition Steve. One of us is always going to make more money than the other. Right now that's me, but one day when you're a famous artist, maybe I can quit my job and we can go to Paris and Italy and I'll sit around drinking wine while you draw."

Steve looked at his half eaten sandwich. "What if this doesn't last that long?"

"I'm willing to gamble on you," Bucky said. "So will you please let me help you?"

"You're right," Steve relented, squeezing Bucky's hand. "I guess I'm still used to doing things on my own sometimes."

Bucky brought Steve's hand to his lips "And I'm not looking to swoop in every time you stumble on the sidewalk, but if I see you in trouble, I can't just sit back and watch."

"Thank you," Steve said. "But even with my raise and you modeling, I'm not sure we'll be able to come up with the money."

Bucky leaned over to kiss him. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, I'm sure we can think of something, even if we have to sell the radio."

Steve grinned and release Bucky's hand to finished his sandwich.

The morning had been exhausting, so Bucky decided to rest up for a bit before he went to his parents. He picked up a book but he couldn't seem to focus on the story. It was a relief to have things with Steve settled, but that still left the problem of how they were actually going to get the money for his tuition. He closed the book and looked it over. It was in good condition and would probably fetch a decent price but he knew Steve would be reluctant to sell any of their books. Nothing they owned was really going sell for the kind of money they needed. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. After all that, he might not be able to help.

He set the book on the table and went to comb his hair. Sitting here agonizing over this wasn't going to help. Talking to his mother for a bit might at least help clear his head. He went over to his parents' and found his mother was in the kitchen. The smell of beef and carrots simmering in the pot filled the room.

"Hi Mom," he called. He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a plum from the basket on the table.

"Hi Honey," she said, covering the pot. "I didn't expect you this early."

Bucky bit into the juicy plum. It was refreshing after the walk over. "You need any help? I'm actually a pretty decent cook these days."

His mother shook her head but he caught a glint of pride in her smile. "This just has to simmer. Would you like some lemonade?"

"That sounds great," Bucky said. He scraped the last bit of the plum off of the pit with his teeth and tossed it in the trash.

"Is Steve coming?" his mother asked, handing him a cold glass.

Bucky shook his head. "He has to work."

"That's a shame. Could you get me the pie dish out of the top cabinet?" his mother asked. "I'll make a pie and you can take the rest home for him."

Bucky set his lemonade down and opened the cabinet to get the dish. "His favorite is cherry, if you have it."

His mother opened the cabinet and took out a jar of cherries and the sugar. "How's he doing with his art?"

Bucky sighed. "He getting pretty good, but can't pay his tuition for next semester."

"Oh no!" his mother exclaimed.

"I tried to pick up a few extra shifts and help him out, but then this happened," he said, holding up his injured arm.

Buckys mother set the mixing bowl on the counter and bent down to open the cabinet under the sink. She took out an old coffee can, removing a small stack of bills from it. "Will that cover it?" she asked, handing the money to Bucky.

Bucky whistled in amazement as he counted out the money. It was more than he made in a month. "And next semester to boot!" He tapped his fingers nervously. "You don't have to. He might not even accept it."

"I promised his mother on her deathbed that I would watch out for him," his mother said firmly. "I'm not going to let him give up his education over a little money."

Bucky kissed her on the cheek and put the money safely in his pocket. "Thanks Mom."

She laughed. "Thank me by getting the butter."

Bucky was coming out of the bathroom wearing his robe when Steve got home. Steve kissed him and went to the bedroom to change. "How was dinner?"

"Good," Bucky called. "Mom made a cherry pie. I brought the rest home for us."

"Great!" Steve said. He folded up his clothes and headed back to the living room. "So it was a slow night at work and I was going over our budget. I think with my raise and you modeling, if we cut back a bit on groceries and eat with your parents we can-" Steve trailed off as Bucky handed him a stack of worn bills. "What's this?"

"Your tuition for the semester."

Steve took the stack of money and counted it out. It was enough for the entire semester. He gaped at Bucky. "How did you get this?"

"My Mom gave it to me."

Steve shook his head and handed the money back to him. "Bucky I can't-"

"Don't even think about," Bucky cut him off, shoving the money back into his hand. "You'll break her heart."

Steve smiled and went to the bedroom for a minute. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and took out a small box. He returned to the living room. "Can I at least give her something to say thank you?"

Bucky took the box and opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet set with lapis stones. "Steve!" he admonished. "You could have sold this you moron!"

"It was Mom's," Steve told him. "Dad got it for her before he shipped out for France. I couldn't bear to think of it sitting in a pawn shop, but it shouldn't be in my sock drawer either. Your mom always like it."

Bucky kissed him. "You drive me crazy sometimes."

Steve laughed, slipping his arms around Bucky's waist. "I know."

"So, can I see it?" Bucky asked.

Steve frowned. "See what?

Bucky blushed faintly. "The drawing."

Steve went to get his sketch book and opened it to the picture of Bucky. "I feel like I didn't get the lines quite right,"

"No it's good," Bucky said. "No wonder you were ready to grind my coffee after class."

"Thanks, but I could still use a little more practice," Steve said sliding his hands inside Bucky's bathrobe. He traced the lines of Bucky's hips his with fingers. There was something about them he hadn't been quite able to capture.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You want me to pose for you?"

"You did it for the class," Steve purred, slightly stroking Bucky's bare hip.

Bucky traced a finger along Steve's jaw. '"I got paid for that."

Steve stood up on his toes until their lips were almost touching. "I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Bucky vowed.

His heart pounding, Steve took his sketchpad and turned to a clean sheet. "Lie on the couch and put your arm back behind you," he instructed. Bucky started to take off his robe. "No leave it on," Steve told him.

"Leave it on?" Bucky asked.

Steve set down his sketch pad. He went over and untied Bucky's robe, pushing it open show Bucky's muscular form. "Like that."

Bucky kissed him and lay down on the couch. "You'd better get in this picture with me later."

Steve swallowed as he felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. He pulled the robe aside to expose more of Bucky's hip and draped it off the edge of the couch. Trying to calm himself, he sat down in the chair across the room and started to sketch the chiseled lines of Bucky's chest.

"This seems a little unfair," Bucky said. "You're going to have all these pictures of me and I won't have any of you."

Steve smirked as he looked up to study the curve of Bucky's powerful thighs. "Well you know, next semester is my self portrait class."

-End-

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Izzie: Thank you! I don't want the smut to detract from the story, but I'll do what I can!