I don't normally write AU's so I don't know how this is going to turn out, but let me know if you guys like it. I really like the idea of a dominant Steve, and a submissive Bucky so I'll be incorporating that. Drop me a review and let me know what you think!

Oh My God They Were Roommates

Chapter One

Bucky slammed the door as he stormed out. He instantly regretted it. It wasn't Steve's fault he was in a bad mood. Well, maybe it was, but Steve didn't know that. Poor guy had no clue what he did to Bucky on a regular basis. The way his heart hammered against his chest when Steve smiled, the tingling his touch left on Bucky's skin. It wasn't fair. It probably wasn't even right.

Bucky had known Steve since they were little, grade school. They had both been bullied but with Steve's heart condition Bucky was the one who ended up standing up to people for them, even though Steve would still try, he mostly just ended up with bruises and broken bones. Looking back though Bucky was glad he'd had the chance to protect Steve while he could, he didn't need protection anymore, certainly didn't want it, so Bucky treasured the memories of Steve needing him. Steve's parents had finally scrapped up enough money to get Steve into surgery, it had cleared his heart condition completely and Steve had finally been able to grow stronger. Bucky had hated how fast Steve grew at first, the boy had sprouted like a damn tree and now Steve stood at least three inches over Bucky. It just added to the feeling of not being needed. But when Bucky had finally embraced his sexuality he had to admit, Steve's towering height was beyond sexy. Add it to his powerful build, something Steve spent a lot of time at the gym for, and it should have been illegal. His damn hair, and his damn eyes, and his damn stupidity.

Bucky grimaced and stormed out of the apartment building, glad he had thought to grab his keys before he left. He dropped into his car and instantly reached over into the glovebox, turning the keys in the ignition and rolling down the windows as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes. He lit it with a practiced flick of the lighter and took a deep drag, hoping it would calm his nerves.

Seeing Steve bring another sketchy character home had done more to him than he realized. He refused to acknowledge that the pit in his stomach was actually jealousy, fiery hot possession. Steve was his, he'd always belonged to him, and no one else was good enough to take care of his Stevie. Instead he focused on tapping it down deeper, burying it. He hadn't realized how hard moving in with Steve would be, honestly hadn't even acknowledged his possessive feelings until they'd already settled. But becoming roommates had always been the boys' dream, and after Steve's parents basically disowned him it made even more sense, and Bucky couldn't stand the thought of anyone else being Steve's roommate so he ignored his feelings in favor of their friendship. They had been each other's confidants. Bucky had known before anyone else that Steve was bisexual, and Steve had been the first one to know that Bucky was gay. They had a wonderfully open and understanding relationship, they could tell each other anything.

So when Steve had been kicked out Bucky had immediately started looking for apartments, whatever his feelings were he would not leave Steve in the dirt. Neither boy was rich, but Bucky had been sure they could get by together. It had helped tremendously when he'd mentioned it to Tony, their mutual friend who had too much time and money on his hands. Tony had almost instantly convinced his dad, Howard, to rent a small two bedroom apartment to the two boys at a steeply discounted rate. Howard had even helped them furnish it, nothing too crazy, but a decent couch, Tv, dressers, beds, and kitchen supplies so they could get fully on their feet without too much stress. It was nice. It had been almost a year and it was nice.

Now Bucky almost regretted it. Almost. He loved coming home from work to find Steve cooking, or lounging on the couch waiting for him. They'd had too many good nights where it was just them, playing games, binging shows, just being together. And then a few months ago something changed. Steve had started bringing home people. It was a nice apartment, but the walls were thin and Bucky always felt sick when Steve and his new person, whoever they happened to be that night, disappeared into Steve's room. It just went on, Steve never stuck with one person for long, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. But Bucky had never felt so useless. When had he stopped being enough for Steve? Had he never been enough? Did Steve just put up with him because he stuck around? It was starting to kill Bucky, but he'd never desert his friend. So he took to going out by himself instead. He'd found a list of bars that were fun to hang out at and he never went home before two in the morning. At least by then they'd be sleeping, or gone. It also meant Bucky slept later than Steve, so Steve's new friend was never around when Bucky finally fell out of bed to go to work.

He sighed, breathing out another cloud of smoke. Steve had told him it was just gonna be them tonight. They were gonna play Scrabble with Agents of Shield playing in the background, sharing a bottle of cheap whiskey. Instead, Steve had gotten a call, Bucky had teased him about being a booty call for someone, but Steve had only laughed and invited the guy over. So now Steve and the guy, he'd introduced himself to Bucky but Bucky didn't care enough to remember his name, were curled up on the couch, completely ignoring the gory show the guy had picked, opting to aggressively make out instead. It wasn't even a good show, Bucky might have stuck around if they'd left Agents of Shield playing, but they'd switched the show, then completely ignored it. Bucky realized with a huff that he was feeling left out.

He tossed the cigarette butt into the gutter beside the car and stared up at the window to the apartment. With the car window down the cold was starting to get to him and he regretted not grabbing his jacket. His white tank top wasn't cutting it right now, but there was no way he was going back up to get it. He reached into his pocket for his phone and cursed. It was still on the coffee table, next to his whiskey. Damn it. Still not worth going up for though. So Bucky rolled up the window and pulled away from the curb, wallowing at a bar was his best option at this point. At least he could afford some better whiskey with having gotten paid that day. Normally he had to go the cheap route with nasty beer, tonight though, he'd drown himself.

The parking lot wasn't as busy as he expected for a Friday night, but maybe it was just because it was late. He shivered lightly as he got out of the car, his thin tank top and dark jeans not quite enough to cut through the cold. At least he'd had the foresight to throw on sneakers.

The sound of the bar as he stepped inside was a welcome distraction from his heavy thoughts. The barstools were surprisingly clear and most of the noise was coming from a large group in the far back corner. Bucky grimaced, the last thing he wanted was a drunken party goer hitting on him.

He grabbed a stool and nodded at the bartender. Adam was one of his favorites, and Bucky was glad to see him.

"What'll it be? Bud light?"

Bucky shook his head, resting his forearms on the counter top. "Not tonight, I need something stronger than that."

"Jack Daniel's it is. Neat?"

Bucky nodded. Maybe he was coming around here too often if the bartender already knew what he liked. Bucky couldn't remember actually getting anything besides the cheap beer and the one brand of whiskey when he came in. "Actually, on the rocks, and make it a double."

Adam replaced the short glass and exchanged it for a taller one as he whistled under his breath. "That bad of a night, huh? Roommate troubles again?"

Bucky rubbed his hand across his eyes, trying to rub out the start of a tension headache. Adam was the only bartender here that actually knew his problem. It wasn't that Bucky was shy, but he liked having his own business stay his. Bucky could hold his liquor well, but he couldn't always help what was said once he got a little too wasted. "Yeah, you could say that."

The glass clinked on the counter in front of him and he nodded, picking it up and toasting the bartender. He took a deep gulp, relishing the burn. He stretched his neck and tried to relax. He sighed deeply and took another drink. "That's why I'm glad you guys stay open most of the night. Keeps me from losing my mind."

"Oh my god, your arm!"

Bucky flinched away from the loud squeal. Well, maybe a squeal was unfair, but it was loud whatever it was. He glanced over at the girl as she slammed an empty beer bottle on the counter beside him. Her eyes were staring at his left shoulder. Without asking and fast enough that Bucky couldn't pull away, she grabbed his wrist and ran her fingers up the tattooed sleeve and over the toned muscle, finally stopping at the bright red star on his upper bicep. "It's gorgeous, who's your artist? I've never been able to get my tattoos to stay this bright, how do you do it?"

He pulled his arm away gently, a little too self conscious in just his tank top. He loved his sleeve, but generally tried not to bring too much attention to it. "Um, it's a gal on the parkway, she does a good job. But she's still working on filling in the gaps."

The petite girl nodded, her dusty red hair falling out of the casual braid on top of her head, brushing her cheeks. "It's amazing. 'Till the end of the line', how sweet!" She brushed her fingers along the printed words on his forearm. "And the designs are just stellar! Oh my god, I'm jealous!"

He smirked in spite of his bad attitude. "Thanks, it's a friendship thing, my buddy has a matching line on his right arm." The words hit his stomach, making the knot there even worse. That's where his sleeve had started. The star had been there for years, but Steve had joked about how cool it would be if Bucky filled in the arm, even offering to get a matching tattoo to commemorate their friendship after they had come out to each other. Steve's 'till the end of the line' was on the top of his right forearm, where Steve said the words created a shield to protect him when Bucky wasn't around. Well, at least that's the way it had been, Bucky wondered if Steve even looked at it anymore.

The girl claimed a barstool and leaned closer, still inspecting the designs. "That's so sweet, my bestie and I have one too, see?" She pulled away far enough to drop the sleeve of her crop top off her shoulder. A black vine stretched from her back, over her shoulder and across her collarbone, ending in an infinity symbol.. "Thick as thieves, that's us! He has arrows and stuff, mine's just a vine. Different enough,but still there, ya know?"

Bucky recovered enough from her abrupt presence to take the girl in completely. She seemed a little young, but there was an air about her that put her age a little higher than he originally thought. Mid twenties? She also wasn't incredibly tall. She had on a tight pair of distressed jeans that disappeared into knee high combat boots, which were currently resting on the supports of his own barstool. Her grey crop top displayed a couple of guys sitting on the hood of a classic car, obviously some kind of tv show merch. The high cut of the hem showed off a slim stomach, but the neckline was modest enough that only her collarbones were visible. She had large hoops in her ears that hit her shoulders when she looked down, and her left ear even sported a sparkly cuff. Her hair was done up, almost messy, but casual enough to be appealing, the locks that fell out framed her eyes. Bucky had always liked girls in makeup, and this one was no different. She wasn't covered in the stuff, but her caramel eyes were rimmed in gold, and her lips were a dark purple, it was a surprising combination that worked.

She dropped her hand back to his, still taking in all the designs. He reached with his other hand for his drink. He needed to be way more buzzed than he currently was if she wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Tv shows, right? Captain America around your star, and that is an Agents of Shield quinjet right?"

He nodded at her, Steve had been the one to pick most of the sleeve, but he had had a say. In between all the roses and flourishes that Steve had drawn himself Bucky had been sure to add some of his favorite things. There was also a sniper crosshair on there somewhere, some lines of music notes, even a woman dressed in the style of the '20's dancing. He might be gay, but he appreciated beauty when he saw it. All of it was shaded and filled with red and black. Bucky had to admit though, his favorite part of his sleeve was where Steve's artistic side had gone wild, a good half of his arm was simply drawings from Steve in sharpie that Bucky had instantly gone to have tattooed there permanently. Though there were obvious gaps from where he had run out of money and the sharpie had faded. He had made Steve promise to redraw the designs when he had some money to spend on it again. He was a hopeless romantic after all, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He thanked his tattoo artist's talent though for being able to weave everything together.

The girl seemed to finally get enough of his arm to look up at Adam and tap her bottle. "I'll take another, Adam, staring at a masterpiece like this makes me want another tattoo myself, get me drunk so I'll forget."

Adam laughed and switched her bottles. She took a deep drink.

"Get you drunk? You sure you're not there already?" Bucky reclaimed his arm and took another drink.

She laughed. "Oh, this is just my third one, and you better believe I can hold my liquor."

Bucky chuckled and glanced at her again. She was now fully relaxed against the bar, her hip supporting her. She really was a looker, but the more he listened and looked the more he wondered how old she really was. The tones of voice she used were loud, but there were undertones of responsibility. He had yet to meet a girl who could match his liquor intake though. "I'd hate to hear you drunk, you're loud enough already."

She laughed again. "Well, stick around, hottie, and you might get to see."

With that she winked at him and jumped off the stool, walking back over to a small group of people in a dark corner. Bucky hadn't noticed them when he first walked in, but they were all a little older and not nearly as loud as the group in the back.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to his drink.

"Don't mind her," Adam told him as he polished some glasses with a rag. "That's just Nat, she'll talk your ear off sober, but give her some vodka and she goes quiet. And don't worry about her hitting on you, she does it to everyone, it's basically her hello. If she doesn't hit on, something's wrong."

Bucky smirked. "That's comforting, thanks."

He fell silent as he went back to his thoughts, finishing his drink far too fast. But he couldn't bring himself to care, and with a nod Adam refilled it for him.

He was three drinks and a couple hours in when Nat came back. She pulled out the barstool beside him and settled in. He held back a groan. But Adam was right, she'd had a few more drinks and was significantly quieter. He glanced back at her group, but there was no one there.

"Didn't leave with your friends?"

She shrugged. "They can't seem to hang around after one in the morning anymore, something about work and science crap."

He just grunted in reply.

"But what's your story? I can sense heartbreak when I see it, and considering you're still here, it must have been a bad one."

He raised his eyes to glare at her, the buzz in his head had loosened the knot, and he could tell his words weren't quite steady anymore. "I am not heartbroken, a guy isn't allowed to wallow in some self pity every now and again?"

She smirked, this time accepting a martini from Adam. "Self pity, heartbreak, almost the same thing."

"I am not heartbroken. Just trying to get up the courage to head home." He swirled his drink and took another sip. He doubted Steve would miss him, but he'd left his phone at home so even if he was missed, there was no way Steve would find him, and Bucky was almost grateful for that.

Nat suddenly offered him her hand. "Natasha, by the way, realized I never officially introduced myself. You from around here then?"

He reached over and shook her hand quickly. "James, but you can call me Bucky. Yeah, a couple miles from here over in Brooklyn."

She nodded. "I wonder if you know some people from Brooklyn high? Stark used to go there."

"Tony Stark?" He looked up in disbelief.

"Yeah, you know him?"

He chuckled again. "He's the only reason I still live in Brooklyn, almost had to move away cause it's so expensive, but he convinced his dad to let me and my buddy rent a place discounted."

She swirled her glass carefully. "That's Tony alright, he never mentioned he still has friends there."

"We're not super close, him and Steve got in a little thing and it kind of fell apart after that. He's still a friend though, Steve's just an ass."

"Sounds like Tony too, must be a fun dynamic to watch." She hummed quietly when he only nodded. "So…. Steve, huh?"

He glared at her. But before he could say anything Adam tapped his arm with a corded phone. "It's for you, Buck."

Bucky took it out of habit, surprised that he hadn't even heard it ringing. He was close to the registers, was he that drunk already? He put the speaker to his ear. "Hello?"

"Where the hell have you been? You can't disappear like that on me without taking your phone, Bucky! I'm glad I remember your favorite haunts, this is the fourth place I've called!" Steve sounded hysterical, which was surprising, but he never called Bucky when one of his friends came over, what was his deal?

Bucky sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I figured I wouldn't be missed, you seemed busy. Hardly noticed me leave." His buzz kept him from keeping the venom from his voice.

"That's not fair, Buck, what's your problem with me having people over, huh? Why don't you bring someone by every now and again, maybe it'd pull you out of your fucking moods."

Bucky's jaw tightened and he downed the rest of his drink. "Who said I cared, Steve? Nobody cares about your fucking habits, so let me have mine, huh?"

"You're smoking again, too, aren't you? You know how you get when you drink and smoke, I thought we had gotten past this?"

Bucky wanted to slam the phone down, or throw it somewhere. "Why the fuck do you care so much? Just go back to your room and don't worry about considering the other people who live around you, I'm sure they don't care about all the noise you make."

"You can't drive anymore can you? You only get like this when you've been drinking too long. Hand the phone back and don't you dare think about leaving, I'm coming to get you. And for the record, he's not here anymore. He got pissed and he left, and now instead of having a shoulder to lean on I have to track you down and drag you home, how's that for considerate, huh?"

Bucky felt his stomach drop, Steve was alone? What had the other guy done? Instead of replying though he just slammed the phone on the counter. It wasn't nearly as satisfying when the action didn't hang it up, but whatever.

Adam took the phone back with raised eyebrows. "This is Adam. Yeah, I'll keep him here, do you have the address?"

Bucky was fuming and tried to take a drink, before realizing it was empty. He growled and Adam nodded at him, even as he kept talking into the phone. Bucky was grateful when Adam poured another double. If Steve was coming to get him he could keep drinking and be fine.

He had forgotten about Nat in his anger and jumped when she touched his elbow. She also had raised eyebrows. "That was Steve?"

He glared at her.

She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, I don't judge, my friend Bruce tends to get overbearing when I stick around here for too long, but there was a lot of anger there. What'd he do?"

Bucky just took another drink. He was not in the mood to explain things. Especially since this drink had him over buzzed and headed into straight drunk. He certainly didn't want to start going on about Steve, that never went well when he was drunk. With Steve's stupid smile that lit up a room, or his perfectly golden hair that looked sexy even when it was all over the place. Or the way he would get competitive during games and whine until Bucky let him win. His puppy dog eyes that could get Bucky to do whatever he wanted. Add all that to his impressive physique, his pecs that could crack a walnut, and Bucky swore the man had completely bypassed six and went straight to an eight pack when he flexed. And whenever he came out of the bathroom without drying off completely, or came home from the gym, glistening, perfect. It was ridiculous, completely fucked up, yet Bucky couldn't say anything for fear of letting on his feelings. So stupid.

Nat was grinning. "Wow, you have it bad, unrequited, that's the worst. Damn, am I good, or am I good?" The last part was directed at Adam who chuckled.

"The man didn't even say anything, Nat, let off him, he's had a bad night."

She finished her own drink and patted his shoulder. "Oh, some things don't need to be said, I get it, Buck, shit's rough."

He grunted, not in the mood to discuss it, but the whiskey was getting to him. "Who the fuck cares, not like things are gonna change, he's just gonna keep bringing sluts over, probably gonna contract some STD, and I wouldn't even feel sorry for the bastard, serves him right sleeping around with half of Brooklyn."

"So this is what you do, what happened to all that talk about no one cares about my habits, huh?"

Bucky whipped around, dizziness hitting him and almost toppling him from his barstool. He grabbed the bar to keep himself from hitting the floor. Steve's blue eyes had turned from clear crystal to stormy ocean. He grabbed Bucky and pulled him off the stool.

"I'm really the bastard here? I don't sleep with half of Brooklyn, and even if I did I consider that better than wrecking your body and wasting half a paycheck on crappy booze. Get the fuck up. How much does he owe you?"

Adam shook his head. "He settles as he drinks."

Nat suddenly put a hand on Bucky's shoulder, keeping Steve from pulling him out of the bar. "I'm Nat, I was chatting with Bucky here, you must be Steve."

Steve nodded, his smile nowhere near his eyes. "Nice to meet you, I need to get a drunken asshole home, so if you'll excuse me."

Bucky stumbled and pulled away, forcing Steve off him. "I still have a drink, if you think I'm that much of an asshole go home and leave me alone."

Steve clenched his jaw. "Yeah, and how are you gonna get home? You're shitfaced, Bucky, I don't know what's gotten into you lately. We're going home, get the fuck over it."

Bucky growled, turning around he grabbed the glass off the bar and downed the rest of the whiskey. He could feel his face flush with the burn, but he didn't care. Until he noticed Adam behind the bar. The guy could always tell when Bucky was done, and he was giving Bucky that look now. Bucky sighed. Adam gave him a smirk and nodded at the door, holding out Bucky's credit card for him to take.

"Fine, but don't touch me. And I am not shitfaced." He growled at Steve. Steve raised his hands and backed off, turning toward the door, obviously expecting Bucky to follow him.

Bucky replaced his credit card in his wallet and tossed Adam a twenty and a couple of fives. Such a good bartender, no wonder he was Bucky's favorite.

"Bucky, now!"

Bucky kept himself from growling again, nodding to Nat. "Nice to meet you, see you tomorrow?"

She grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He knew Steve heard it, knew he was gonna get a lecture for going to the bar two nights in a row, but he didn't care.

Steve was silent the entire ride home, Bucky was too drunk to care about the lecture he was surely rehearsing in his head. His fuzzy brain focused instead on how he was gonna get his car before work tomorrow, judging by the silence Steve was not going to be open to offering help.

It wasn't until they pulled back up in front of the apartment that Steve spoke. It was surprisingly gentle and made Bucky turn to mush.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. But you never leave your phone, and when I realized you had I got scared. I hate it when you go to the bars, it takes days for you to be nice to me again, and tonight I needed you. I needed my friend, and I'm sorry our plans didn't work out, but that wasn't a reason to leave. I needed you, Patrick got all pissed off at me and you weren't there to back me up. I felt like you deserted me."

Bucky gulped back drunken tears, hating the way Steve could make him all mushy inside, willing to bend to his every desire. If only it was physical bending Steve wanted, Bucky would give him that in a heartbeat. Bucky shook his head to bring his mind away from those images. "You ditched me first, Steve, we were supposed to hang out, we haven't done that in weeks, and the first chance we finally get to hang out and instead you answer a booty call. Makes me feel worthless, and I got sick of it, so yeah, I left. The only reason I didn't have my phone is cause I couldn't stomach having to go back in and watch someone suck your face off on the couch. It's disgusting." His voice was surprisingly steady, and Bucky was glad, he didn't need Steve knowing just how drunk he really was. The world was tilting uncomfortably and Bucky just wanted to lay down.

"Bucky, you're gay, watching guys make out shouldn't be gross to you."

"Well, maybe it's not the gay factor, you ever think of that? Maybe it's the fact that you let these people walk all over you. The girls are okay, but the guys you pick are fucking terrible, they take advantage of you and then leave the next morning, knowing that all they have to do is call and you'll fall on your knees for 'em."

Steve flushed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm not the one who falls on my knees, thank you." But Bucky couldn't be sure.

"What?"

Steve shook his head, his voice softer. "The point is, Buck, you can't keep shitfacing yourself and smoking a hole through your lungs, I swear it's like you have a fucking death wish. Just pull yourself together. You have to work tomorrow, but instead of being responsible you get shitfaced at two in the morning."

Bucky lowered his head. He hated it when Steve sounded so disappointed and sad, he just wanted Steve happy, but he wanted Steve to be happy with him. It just sucked. He lost all of the fight, going limp against the door. "Okay, Stevie, I'm sorry, I just…" He didn't finish, instead leaning his head against the window, feeling the cold glass against his forehead. When had he gotten so hot. He was hardly wearing anything, he should be freezing.

Steve grabbed the back of his neck, pulling Bucky around to look at him. The touch felt amazing to Bucky's drunken brain, and he nearly whimpered in pleasure when Steve grabbed onto his short hair, pulling on it.

"Let's get you inside, Buck, just please, I need you to take care of yourself."

With the touch, and Steve's puppy eyes, and his tone of voice Bucky wanted nothing else than to give Steve what he wanted. So he nodded. "Okay, Stevie. Can you help me inside?"

Steve chuckled, moving his hand from the back of Bucky's neck to his jaw. "The world's swimmin', huh? Why do you do this to yourself?"

Bucky just nodded. "I'm sorry, I just can't stand it, it hurts, and this helps, at least for a little while."

"Can't stand what, Bucky? Me having people over? Having sex?"

Bucky just got lost in the blue eyes, suddenly so clear as the overhead light came on.

"Bucky, you can't make my choices for me, I promise I'm being careful. But this is something I need, it… well, it helps. I guess we both have problems, huh?"

Bucky just nodded, dropping his head onto Steve's shoulder, breathing in deeply. He grimaced when a not Steve smell assaulted his nose. Damn people, leaving their smell all over his Steve. It was gross.

Steve patted the back of his head for a few seconds. "Alright, Buck, let's get you to bed."