Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the first day of the school year and Steve was torn between being utterly devastated, and completely relieved. Sarah was growing up, and Steve was just not ready for that. On the other hand, thank fuck school holidays were over. It had been great to have Sarah home but Steve was exhausted thanks to endless entertaining, even with summer camp and her spending a few weeks with Peggy. How did such tiny things have so much energy? And the questions… the questions never stopped.

“Okay, c’mon, don’t want to be late on your first day of school,” he said, hurrying her along.

“But I don’t wanna, Dad… I wanna go back to bed…” Sarah huffed, head on the kitchen table, rolling her face over and over on it in protest.

“You and me both, kid.” Steve moved around the kitchen quickly in an attempt to put together his lunch, trying to stuff breakfast in his mouth while he worked. One day he'd get his shit together and prepare it the day before, but it certainly wasn't this day. “But you wanna be a grownup; you gotta keep grownup hours.” Over the summer, Sarah decided she was a grownup, given that she'd be ten soon, and Steve had been abusing that notion ever since. Her room had never been tidier, and she'd never regretted wishing to be a grownup more.

"Ughhhh," she sighed, pushing off the table.

"C'mon, go get your uniform on."

"Ughhhh," she repeated, stomping off to her bedroom.

Steve rolled his eyes and finished making his lunch, eyeing the clock on the wall. So far they were on time, and his coffee was only lukewarm. But he still had to shower and get dressed.

By some miracle, they were actually on time, even accounting for the first day of schools traffic. The blessing of living in a smaller town, rather than say, New York, where he'd grown up. He prepared for the worst though, and hadn't scheduled any meetings until 10am, just in case something went wrong, or Sarah had a sudden change of heart and after four years decided she needed him to walk her to her classroom.

"Now, don’t forget you have Enrichment this afternoon, and I'll pick you up after, okay?" Steve said, almost to remind himself as they drove into the parking lot.

Most mornings, Steve could get away with a kiss-and-ride drop off, but the first day of school was always important. And that meant… mothers. He had to deal with thirsty, flirty mothers. He didn’t always mind the attention, even if it did occasionally make him uncomfortable. Weren’t most of them married ?

In the backseat, Sarah rolled her eyes, having all the knowledge of a 30 year old. She had to get that from her mother. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

He wasn't sure why he'd let her sign up for debating; he was a lawyer and she could out-argue him any day but he wasn't a pushover. Really, he wasn't! (Okay, maybe a little.)

When he pulled into the parking lot, he could already see the dreaded Cool Moms hanging around their cars, laughing and talking. And they were near the only other parking space available. Great. He had half-hoped to park on the other end of the parking lot, and that he'd be able to get away with just smiling and waving before fleeing.

Gritting his teeth and forcing a grin to his face, he pulled in easily before letting Sarah out.

"Please try not to ruin your MacBook," he said, knowing he sounded like a nag and not caring. Since when did kids in elementary school need computers? He made it through school just fine without a computer, but they were compulsory in the final year of elementary school now, apparently. "I won't buy you a new one if you do."

Sarah rolled her eyes, tugging her backpack on and adjusting her jumper. "Yeah, yeah." That was the phrase she'd picked up over the summer, it seemed.

"Good. I love you. Hug? Or is that uncool now?" Steve was only half-teasing. Shit, she was growing up so fast, and every day he saw signs of the teenager she was going to be. He was doomed.

Sarah huffed, brown eyes rolling again (and yeah, he was going to have to put a stop to that soon, but that could wait for another day), and then gave him a surprisingly tight hug. Steve tried not to think about how those hugs were going to be limited as the next few years went by, and just enjoyed the moment for what it was.

"Hey Steve," Tina called across the few cars between them. "How was your summer?" Her tone was just as cloying as ever.

"It was wonderful, Tina. How was yours?" Steve responded warmly, even if it grated on him. The last thing he needed to do was put the bitch brigade on the offensive and have their children bully Sarah in retaliation or something.

"Good. We missed you at the last PFA barbecue."

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. It’s just been hectic with work, and I was down in New York for a few weeks while Sarah was with Peggy. You know how it is," he said, going around the back of his car, pretending to look for something so he didn't have to engage with all of them.

"Sounds terrible. You should come over for dinner one night," another mom, Deborah, called, twirling her blonde hair around manicured fingers. “I’m sure Paris would love to play with Sarah.”

He was about to walk Sarah across the lot when a sleek black 2018 Camaro ZL1 pulled in. Steve's jaw almost dropped; he loved Camaros. A space had cleared almost opposite Steve's SUV and the car spun into it easily, handling so smoothly Steve wanted to plaster his body to it. He loved that car.

Either there was a new kid (plausible given it was the start of a new year, but unlikely given how rarely spaces opened at the school; the youngest grades weren't meant to start until tomorrow), or another parent was having a mid-life crisis. He couldn't see through the heavily tinted (were those legal? He didn’t think those were legal) windows to confirm his suspicions. Christ, he hoped it wasn't one of the thirsty moms. Speaking of, they were all watching in interest with more open awe than Steve was showing. One of them was clutching her pearls. Literally. Yeah, Camaros were not common in this part of the world.

The engine died down on the car and a man around his age stepped out. Yep, that had to be a new parent, or an older brother or something. The guy looked to be Steve’s height, and not quite as broad. His dark hair hung around his face, clean but… god, Steve hadn’t seen someone with long hair since he was in college. He was wearing long sleeves even in the warm weather, but who was Steve to judge? He was in a suit himself, although his suit jacket was hung neatly over the passenger seat. Something about the way he was dressed struck Steve as unusual, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

The other door opened and a girl about Sarah's age emerged, her dark brown hair pulled into tight braids. Steve didn't recognise her either.

Steve had to stop himself staring, trying hard not to be like the gawking mothers (Deborah had clutched her pearls too; it was probably the guy’s long hair). Steve was only staring because of his car, honestly! And okay, new families were rare at Gracemere. And he looked so different to everyone else there. They were Prep School Mom Personified, really, all pearls and pastels and neat hair and those soft pink nails with the white tips that Peggy had hated.

This guy had a dark sports car, and had longish hair, and artful stubble, and wore dark clothes even in late summer.

The guy didn't even look at them, keeping his head down but his shoulders back as he crossed the little girl over the lot and to the safety of the other side. The little brunette spun and faced him, and he knelt down so that he was almost her height. He spoke to her softly, expression hidden by his hair still. Finally the little girl nodded, squaring her shoulders and jutting her chin out stubbornly, putting on a brave face if Steve had ever seen one. Then, she spun on the heel of her Mary-Janes and walked off from the man into the front of the school. The man stood up slowly, also squaring his own shoulders. He watched her intently, in the same way Steve was watching the man. Only once she'd nodded sharply at him, giving him a tight grin and a wave, disappearing into the building, did he leave his spot and walk back to his car.

Only now the man seemed to notice he was being watched, and Steve finally managed to get a glimpse of more than just stubble and pale skin. Holy jawline and cheekbones, and wow, his eyes were even lighter than Steve's, something he didn't come across often. He was young, but not quite as young as he'd first seemed. Maybe early thirties, a few years younger than Steve. Yeah, Steve wanted to climb that. He moved slowly and gracefully, eyes narrowing as his eyes slid across the stunned silent mothers, and Steve. They settled a little longer on Steve, but flicked away quickly.

He paused as he reached the Camaro.

Steve gave the guy a big grin, probably over the top, and waved. "Welcome to Gracemere," Steve said, hoping he wasn't being too loud for the short distance. The guy just stared for a moment longer, nodded, and got back into his car before driving off quickly.

Wow. Nice guy.

*

This was a big week for Laura, but she was taking it like the little champion she was. She'd handled all of this like a champion, if Bucky was honest. But he'd expect nothing less from her.

He couldn't believe she was real, and that she was his. It had actually been relatively simple, and he'd had that amazing lawyer of Tony's, and CPS had weirdly enough wanted her back with him. Bucky wasn't sure he trusted himself with her, but CPS did, and his lawyers did, and that was good enough, right? Once he'd been cleared from the hospital, and all the psych evals, and the medical evals, and got his arm… Okay, so it had taken about six months for him to get cleared and get her back, but still. He'd gotten her back.

Given everything, she’d adjusted so well. She had barely known him yet she accepted him so easily, loved him so purely and simply. He expected behavioural problems and lashing out, and hey, maybe it would come in time, but the three months Bucky had had her had been a dream. Maybe it was because she'd been deprived of love for so long that she latched so firmly onto him. Maybe she could tell how badly he needed her. Maybe she had known he'd never really leave her, and was just so relieved he'd come back for her. Whatever the reason, she loved him and it made everything worth it.

Bucky was trying as hard as he possibly could to be strong, and hold it together. Were it not for Laura, he wouldn't be surprised if he didn't get out of bed some days. Some days the temptation to lie in bed all day and wallow in everything he'd lost, everything that happened, overwhelmed him. Then he'd hear Laura clattering around in the kitchen or singing to herself, and he'd find a way to peel himself out of the safety of his blankets and plaster a grin to his exhausted face.

Ballet was just one of the many ways he was trying to make it all up to her. He'd only met her a few times in her life, and had been entirely absent for eight years, and now he was more than trying to make up for it. He wanted her life to be good, particularly after she lost her mother and almost lost him. Bucky could relate; he'd been on his own since he was sixteen years old, in and out of foster care until he turned eighteen and joined the army.

He knew what it felt like to be alone and he didn't want that for her. He wanted her to have everything.

So when they'd moved out to Connecticut and she'd asked if she could start ballet again, Bucky had been delighted. Her mother had loved ballet too, and seeing her dance made the weird empty space in his chest swell and fill with pride and joy. He enrolled her in private classes at the local ballet academy over the summer. Her mother had started her in classes as a toddler, but for the two years she'd been in foster care, she'd only practiced in her room with videos on YouTube.

Her new instructor, Natasha, had been impressed, and thanks to the private lessons throughout the summer, she felt confident in moving Laura to her age group once the semester started. Natasha even suggested that she'd be ready to start pointe training by Christmas, and Laura had been doing her exercises endlessly in the hopes of making that a reality.

Two first days in a row. Bucky was pretty sure he was more nervous than Laura. Laura had handled her first day at Gracemere easily, even if she thought her classmates were stupid. She’d handle ballet class just fine.

The ballet studio was just a few blocks away, so following her after school snack, they meandered down to it, Bucky carrying her bag for her. Laura span as she walked, literally spinning circles around him, and dancing as she went.

"So there's this girl in my class… Sarah, " she hissed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "And she's just… ugh, so ugh."

Bucky nodded, as if he understood. "Yeah, totally." He thought that was the lingo. Was that still the lingo? Thank fuck Laura didn't seem to care if he was up on those kinds of things.

"She's just super annoying, and has all the answers and thinks she's right about everything," Laura continued, not even breathless or dizzy from all her spinning. She was doing to wear herself out before class was done. At least she’d sleep soundly.

"Is she right about everything?"

Laura pulled a face. "Mostly. It's the worst, Papa."

Bucky allowed himself a small smile. "You could try answering before her?"

She pulled a bigger face, her little face scrunching up. "Ew, no. Papa, that's for nerds . And know-it-alls. "

"Oh, my mistake. Definitely be quiet then; that'll show Sarah."

"Papa!" Laura huffed, as if that explained everything. "Don't be silly. I'm just gonna beat her in everything and then she'll know she's not the best. I didn't get that fancy scholarship for nothing." She added with a wink and poking her tongue at him.

Bucky snorted. Yep, definitely his kid, even if he hadn't raised her. Laura twirled under his metal arm and promptly stopped upon arriving at the studio. He passed her bag over and she went off to the locker rooms to get changed. She'd probably do her stretches in there too, and hopefully make some friends? God, he hoped she made some friends. With everything that had happened,she needed something normal in her life.

There was a small cafe right beside the studio that he occasionally went to when she was having her lessons, and he grabbed a decaf to go while he waited. Natasha told him that during the first week that parents were invited to watch, and he was excited at the prospect. He'd seen a few of her lessons, but he'd been trying to give her space to do her own thing.

The girl at the counter was nice, with red hair and heavy eyeliner. She was quiet, with a thick accent, but she gave off a non-terrifying feeling. As long as she didn't burn his coffee, he'd be happy.

While he was waiting for his coffee a small group of women older than him entered the cafe, laughing and talking loudly. Oh god. Suddenly the small cafe seemed overcrowded. They were just loud, and put together, and so… pastel . There was pastel everywhere.

Bucky inhaled nervously, tucking both of his hands into his jeans to hide how they suddenly clenched. He tried to unclench them but every time he managed to, they snapped shut again. His heart rate spiked but he tried to view them objectively. They looked familiar, like the women who had been in Gracemere's parking lot the past two days when he'd dropped Laura off. It made sense that their daughters probably went to Laura's ballet studio too.

"Regular decaf?" The barista, Wanda, called, pushing his drink across the counter to him. Bucky had never been so grateful to see decaf in his life. He'd had to start drinking decaf thanks to his anxiety, but honestly, he was just so grateful to have coffee again that he didn't even care how much caffeine in it.

He took the drink gratefully from the girl, and dropped a few dollars into the tip jar. After that, he slipped out of the cafe, hoping that they didn't look at him or try to talk to him or something equally horrible. Outside, he could breathe again. He wanted to pull his phone out to play with while he waited for the studio to open to parents, but he wasn't brave enough just yet. Instead, he kept one hand shoved in his jeans and sucked the coffee through the lid, burning his tongue and barely tasting it. He just needed something to do.

Luckily, the studio opened up before his coffee was even half done, and he darted inside the large room filled with young girls. They all wore the matching wine-red leotards - that he'd had to special order for Laura - and pale pink tights and shoes. Each girls hair was slicked back and tied tightly in a bun that he'd watched Laura practice in the mirror. He thought recognised a few of the girls, maybe, but Bucky's memory wasn't the best anymore, so maybe he didn't.

The hour and a half passed quickly, Bucky sitting in a folding chair in the corner of the enormous room filled with mirrors. The moms from the cafe gossiped and giggled amongst themselves; Bucky tried not to let it annoy him. They were distracting in the same way a lot of noise was these days, and they weren't even paying attention when they should.

Every so often Laura would glance over at him and give him a tiny, shy smile. Fuck, he was so proud of her. She'd overcome so much, and he was just so happy to have her.

When Natasha dismissed class, most of the girls fell into little groups, chattering amongst themselves. Laura, however, ran over to him and swung off his left arm.

"Papa, Papa! Did you see? Did you see me do the pas de chats ?" Her voice was excited, and Bucky was once again so glad he'd been able to watch her lesson.

"I sure did!" Bucky said, letting her hang from his arm. He had no idea what that move was, but he'd watched everything intently; his memory may have been bad, but it wasn't quite that bad yet. He lifted it slightly so that her feet lifted off the ground and she giggled, his shirt slipping along the smooth metal.

"Natasha and I have been working on that for weeks now but I think I got it right! My turn out could still be a little better, but the landing was much more solid."

Bucky nodded as if he had any clue what any of that meant, but she seemed happy to babble at him. They were on their way out of the reception area when they ran into the guy from the day before. Thankfully they didn't literally run into him; he was bulky as fuck and whilst Bucky was growing a decent set of muscles to him thanks to the PT required for his arm, he was still a long way off this guy.

"Oh hey! New dad!" The guy said, smiling a perfect white smile at Bucky. Bucky hated him already. "You're new in town, right?"

"Uh, yeah…" Bucky mumbled, meeting the guys eyes even though every part of him screamed not to. He hadn't survived this long by looking people in the eyes, but he was back in normal society, and it was considered weird and rude to avoid eye contact. The guy’s eyes were tired. And blue (And wow, what a blue they were). But man, that guy needed a nap. He looked exhausted, and his grin forced.

"Great! Name's Steve," he said, wide smile still plastered across his face. He reached a large hand out to shake Bucky's and Bucky cautiously reached forward to meet it. Laura grabbed his metal hand, threading her little fingers through his, and curling around it almost protectively. It soothed something inside him.

"Bucky," he said shortly, and then inwardly cursed himself. Nobody called him that anymore; it had always been reserved for friends and family, but he didn't have any of those these days, except Laura. Tony called him Bucky, but his doctors and lawyers called him James.

"Nice to meet you, Bucky. Welcome to town. And who might you be?" He looked down at Laura.

"Laura," she said, smiling brightly at him. She still wrapped around his forearm, and it reminded him that this place was safe, he was safe, nothing bad was going to happen.

"Lovely to meet you, Laura," Steve said, reaching out to shake her hand too. Laura shook it before promptly wrapping her arms around Bucky's hand again. "My daughter just fin- oh, no, there she is!"

A pretty dark-blonde girl sauntered up to Steve, all but ignoring Bucky and Laura. "Hey Dad. C'mon, let's go. I'm hungry."

"Hi Sarah, lovely to see you too. Yes, my day was wonderful, thank you so much for asking," Steve said, sarcasm heavy in his teasing tone. He looked back up at Bucky with an apologetic look. "Sorry, apparently we're still working on manners here."

Bucky gave him a tight smile. And only a few moments later did it click… Was this the Sarah Laura had been complaining about?

Sarah gave both Bucky and Laura an unimpressed look. When Bucky glanced down he saw Laura squinting at Sarah, mouth a thin line. Yep, definitely that Sarah then. Excellent. He didn't like this Steve guy anyway. There was something so… All-American Beefcake about him, like he'd probably never had to work for anything in his life. He probably bought his perfect house with his trust fund money, had a beautiful wife at home, and had never had to deal with anything worse than his daughter's shitty attitude.

Sure, Steve hadn't done anything wrong yet, but Bucky knew the type. He was like those pastel bitches who gossiped, only he had more muscles.

"Well, nice meeting you, Steve." Bucky tightened his hand in Laura's, careful not to squeeze too tightly.

"You too. And if you need anything around town, let me know! I've lived here a while and can show you all the best things to do."

Bucky stretched his face into what was probably something resembling a grin and walked past.

They'd barely gone a few steps when he heard Sarah say, "What's with the weirdo and his weird hand?"

He didn't get a chance to hear Steve's reply, the door to the studio closing just as she spoke, but he tried not to worry too much. Tried, being the operative word. He hoped Laura hadn't heard that, or if she had, that Sarah wouldn't give her crap at school tomorrow. Maybe Bucky needed a haircut and a shave.

"Don't worry, Papa. I think your arm is awesome, " Laura whispered as they walked.

"Thanks sweetheart," Bucky said. Some of the nervous tension seeped out of him. At least his most important person accepted him, shiny metal and all.

*

Getting a phone call from the school was Steve's worst nightmare. He had most numbers set to 'Do Not Disturb', but Sarah's school would always ring extremely loudly. Steve wasn't insanely overprotective, particularly compared to many of the other parents he encountered, but she was his kid and if the school was calling, it probably wasn't good.

So when he received a call saying that he was required at Gracemere ASAP and that he had to bring her home for the day… well, Steve worried. But he was cool and collected about it; he totally didn't speed the whole way, nor did he almost sweat through his suit. He definitely didn't run through the hallways to the principal's office.

Barbara, the receptionist, smiled at him. Behind the desk, in front of the office, was Sarah with her head down and her arms across her chest. She didn't even look up at him, but he could see that her jumper was torn and her hair was mussed. Beside her, two seats over, was Laura in a similar state. Right.

It was all making sense now.

To say that Sarah was not Laura's biggest fan was an understatement. Laura hadn't actually done anything wrong as far as he could tell, except be better at Sarah in just about everything. Sarah had been top of her class until recently, and just last week he'd heard Sarah complain that Laura was getting to try out pointes or something. Sarah had used some extremely poor language regarding that, and Steve had sent her to her room without her phone or computer in punishment.

Fuck, what had Sarah done?

She'd always been a good kid, but she'd always been the best at things. She hadn't become a bully had she? Steve hated bullies, had been bullied right up until his extremely late growth spurt in sophomore year at university. It was why he did the work that he did.

Steve couldn't help himself and ran a frustrated hand through his pomade-coated hair. Ugh, and now he was frustrated with himself for messing his hair up.

"Hi Steve," Barbara said, giving him a sympathetic look. "Bruce said for you to come in whenever you arrived. Can I get you a coffee?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, coffee would be great."

"Latte?"

He nodded, squared his shoulders and ducked past the reception desk to enter Bruce's office.

Bruce was a great principal, if not someone you wouldn't expect. He was so… calm. Demure. Quiet. He was peaceful and not at all the stern kind of person Steve expected a principal to be. But he got the job done, and the students loved him. Some of the parents didn't enjoy some of his methods (such as teaching children meditation) but Steve was a fan.

Bucky was already in Bruce's office and he glared icily at Steve when he entered.

Yeah, things there hadn't improved either. He didn't understand why this guy hated him so much. Steve tried to be nice, but Bucky mostly just glared at him when they interacted. It wasn't something Steve was used to, particularly in this town. And it wasn't fair because he seemed the kind of person Steve wanted to invite out for drinks, and maybe back home. It was hard to meet people, you know? And his car… Damn.

"Oh god, what did she do?" It was the first thing out of Steve's mouth, and he knew his mistake as soon as he said it. Goddamn, he had such great control in meetings and the occasional courtroom, but here he slipped up because of a cute guy, or his daughter, or some mix of the two.

Bucky's glare intensified. "Why do you think she did anything? What has she been saying?"

Steve instantly felt on the defensive, caught off-guard by the waves of vitriol emanating from the guy. "She hasn't said anything , but there's two beat-up girls out there so I'm guessing Laura is hardly innocent in all of this either."

"Gentlemen." Bruce cut the fight off before it can gain any ground. Steve always liked that about him, but right then adrenaline and frustration started to surge and he didn’t like being stopped just as he was getting started. "I didn't bring you two here to fight either."

Steve exhaled heavily and let some of the tension drop out of his shoulders. He saw from the corner of his eye Bucky adjust in his chair but he looked no less tense. Steve took the seat beside him, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he did.

"Unfortunately I've had to call you in under circumstances I don't really enjoy," Bruce said, stirring his tea absently. "Both of your daughters got caught up in a fight today and broke Jackson's nose."

From his peripheral vision Steve saw Bucky's head plunk into his hand and shake. Steve's jaw dropped a little.

"Wait, they weren't fighting each other?"

"No? Should they have been?" Bruce asked mildly.

"Um, no." Wow Steve, solid work there. That law degree was really paying off right now.

"No, it seems Jackson made some rather unkind comments about mothers while picking on a younger student and they leapt to the students defence."

"So… not each other?" Steve asked again, because he was having trouble believing that. He had no issues believing that Sarah might punch someone for picking on a younger student; she was his daughter, after all. But he'd thought for sure that Laura and her were going to have it out at some point.

"No, although I am mildly concerned that you both seem to have assumed that. Is there something I should know?"

Bucky shrugged. "Seems Sarah doesn't like that Laura's smarter than her."

Steve wanted to argue, wanted to fight back, but that was the truth. He nodded in agreement, folding his arms across his chest and pulling a small face.

Bruce sipped his tea and looked up at them over his teacup. "Well, that surprises me because they were both defending each other when I had them in here earlier."

"Really?" Bucky asked, tone a little incredulous.

Bruce just nodded. "They were technically in the right, and had they not resorted to physical violence… It seemed a few children got involved through the course of the brawl." He sighed. "Unfortunately, physical violence is not appropriate at Gracemere and I have to give them both a three-day suspension."

Steve sighed. Great, he'd have to see if he could work from home for the next few days, or see if he could find a babysitter.

"This won't affect Laura's scholarship will it?" Bucky asked with more strength to his voice than Steve had heard thus far.

"No, no. It will go on her record, but as long as she keeps performing as she is, she'll maintain her scholarship up to her senior year. Assuming she wants to stay here, of course."

Bucky nodded. "Do you need me for anything else?"

Bruce shook his head. "Just sign her out at reception and we'll see her Monday."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." Bucky nodded once at Steve and then left the office.

"Seriously, what is that guy’s problem?!" Steve huffed, sinking further into his seat and letting himself slouch a little.

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "We're very lucky to have his daughter here. She's incredibly talented."

"So I've heard. But that doesn't explain him."

The tiniest crease appeared between Bruce's eyebrows. "James has been through a lot," he said, demure and sparking something in Steve that he didn't like. Damn it, if Bruce thought good things about the guy, then it probably held some weight.

Steve sighed.

*

It was absolutely unethical. He wouldn't lose his job, and it wasn't illegal. But unethical? Fucking yes.

Steve didn't care.

He kept looking over at the door, worried that someone, like his boss, was going to bust in and catch him in the act.

Be chill, Steve. Chill. He did this all the time. He looked people up all the time . It was part of his job . His very legal, and ethical job.

But this wasn't for his job. This was him being nosy.

He shook himself. It was fine. People did this all the time. He wasn't going to do anything with this information. But what had Bruce meant? After getting his credentials wrong three times, he finally managed to log into the program they used to check out the everything about everyone. Most of the information was largely public information, with a few added bonuses that… weren't entirely public.

When searching Bucky Barnes came up blank, he wondered if that was the universe trying to give him a sign not to go digging where it wasn't his business.

But then he remembered that Natasha called Bucky 'James', as had Bruce yesterday.

Geeze. Okay, that had some results. Like, four and a half goddamn thousand… He added a few filters, narrowing it down a little more. On a whim, he added the initial B to the middle name. Even narrower, and with that, he was able to find the right record.

James Buchanan Barnes. 31 year old male. Born in Brooklyn, NY.

Oh hey, another Brooklyn boy! He wondered how he'd never known Bucky growing up; Steve was only a few years older than him, and Brooklyn wasn't that big. (It was that big.)

Parents, both deceased… quite a while ago. When he did the math, he winced. Bucky had only fifteen, sixteen at most when both parents had died. He did some other searches, and came up short.

Steve searched some more, poring over article after article. Most of them lacked the name of one Sergeant James Barnes, but they were all connected once he knew what to look for.

Long Serving POW Rescued By Stark

Steve felt like the air had been punched from his chest.

He'd read about this years ago, and again last year. He hadn't been heavily invested, but he'd definitely read a number of articles about it. Tony Stark had been the one to negotiate his release apparently, something relatively odd given Tony Stark had never really been involved with these kinds of things. The papers had glossed over a lot of the details which had struck Steve as even stranger given the media's love of sharing details far too intimate. The fact that they left them out spoke volumes to him.

But then life had taken over and his interest in the story had dropped down to simply reading things as they appeared in the paper.  

He had to swallow several times and remind himself to breathe.

"Jesus…" Steve said finally, not sure what else to say. More so, he didn't know what else to do.

*

Bucky had been hoping that after their scuffle, it would be the end of the Sarah vs Laura rivalry.

It became much, much worse. They became friends.

He knew Laura had told him but his memory was like Swiss cheese these days, but the fight had been something about mothers, and even though Sarah's mom was still alive she only saw her a few weeks a year and even when they saw each other she wasn't very fun. So there was some weird… bonding thing… about them not having moms, and their mutual hatred of Jackson, and bullies and…

Suddenly Laura was asking for Sarah to hang out with them before ballet most afternoons. Steve usually worked, and Sarah flitted between friends, and apparently Laura was one of them now.

Yeah. It was weird . Bucky had never really understood women all that well, and having a daughter had just made him realise how little he knew.

Girls were weird.

What was weirder was seeing Steve so much more often. Sometimes he was a little late to pick her up from class and Bucky didn't like to just leave her standing there. Sure, there was the teacher but… Sarah and Laura got along. And sure, Bucky thought she was a little obnoxious at times but she wasn't all bad.

They were waiting for Steve to arrive at the ballet studio, and Wanda had had hot chocolates ready for them (with almond milk; apparently Sarah had an allergy to milk, which meant Laura had an allergy to milk now, Jesus...) as it was getting cold. Bucky decidedly liked Wanda, mostly because she didn't say much, didn't ask him questions, and always got his order right. She seemed to like the girls as well.

"Hi," Steve exhaled in a rush as he got out of his SUV. "Sorry I'm late. Again. " He'd been late every day that week, but not by much. Bucky didn't mind; dinner was ready at home and the girls seemed happy to talk amongst themselves while Bucky tried to read.

Finally, Bucky dragged his head out of his book, blinking at it a few times. Steve looked stressed; his hair was mussed, like he'd run his hands through it a number of times. It looked good and for a moment Bucky wondered how it would feel to run his through them too.

He frowned to himself. He wasn't meant to think those things. Intrusive thoughts again. Except it was a positive thought, and intrusive thoughts were decidedly not.

No, no, this was good. It meant good things for his recovery that that had even occurred to him. Steve was just the first adult he spent any semblance of time with (that being, five minutes a day, if that), that wasn't a therapist.  

"It's fine," Bucky said, pushing what he hoped wasn't a forced smile on his face. Steve wasn't as atrocious as he'd originally suspected. He was always insanely grateful to him for looking after Sarah, and polite.

"Let me get you back for the hot chocolate," Steve said, noticing instantly that Sarah had a drink.

Bucky waved offhandedly. "It's fine," he repeated.

"No, no, I really appreciate you watching after her. Nat wouldn't leave her to sit in the dark, but you've got her back." He pulled a crisp fifty from his wallet and passed it over.

"It's okay," Bucky said, folding his arms across his chest, tucking his metal hand under the arm so it was less obvious. "Really."

Steve looked like he was in pain. "I've a favour to ask. I hate to ask, and if you don't want to I'm happy to get her a sitter. I have to head down to Manhattan tomorrow. Huge case. The other guy is a bag of dicks, actually, won't budge even though we're trying to cut a fair deal. Anyway, I don't know when I'll be home, so would you mind watching her after school?" His face was a mix of stress, and worry, and nerves, in fifty places at once.

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, works for me. Will you be back Saturday?"

Steve face broke into one of relief, and his shoulders visibly sagged. "Yeah, hoping to get home sometime tomorrow night, but it's always best to prepare for the worst. I can come by and pick her up so she's not too much trouble."

"It's no trouble. She can spend the night. Laura will have fun, and it means you don't have to wake her up if you get in too late. Have the night to yourself. Go on a date. Watch TV or… whatever people do." Bucky shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He didn't usually talk much to anyone except his therapists, and Tony. Even then he tried to keep that to a minimum.

Steve laughed. "Are you sure? I don't want to be an imposition. I hate to ask, but…"

"Excessive apologies are an imposition," Bucky retaliated with. He let a tiny smile dance over his lips and ducked his head almost instantly. "Really, it's fine. The girls like sleepovers anyway. I can take her to ballet tomorrow and if you're not back then, she can stay until you are." He shrugged. It really wasn't a big deal. As long as Laura did her homework… And Bucky never made her do it on a Friday night.

Steve relaxed further. "God, thank you. You're really helping me out. Can I give you and Laura a lift home? We can grab dinner on the way."

"Nah, it's not too far."

"C'mon. I insist. Let me take you guys out to dinner. We’ll get Chinese or something."

Bucky spoke before he his brain caught up with him. "I have a casserole ready to go at home. You could join us, if you'd like?" Fuck! Why had he offered that? He'd have to talk to Steve! Bucky had had enough human interaction today, hadn't he? But ugh, his therapist was saying he was doing well, and he could afford to start doing things outside of his routine. Maybe dinner with another adult, another parent, was a good way to do that.

Steve looked torn and flustered for a moment before he relaxed back into his easy smile. "I really wanted to buy you dinner as a thank you, but how about we rain check that? Casserole has got to be better for us than Chinese, right?"

"Not the way I make it," Bucky teased before he could stop himself. He was kidding though; he wouldn't feed Laura junk food.

"Hey girls, c'mon. We're going to Bucky's for dinner." Steve called over to Laura and Sarah.

"Oh, awesome," Sarah said, pouring the rest of her hot chocolate into her mouth. "It smelled super good when we were there earlier. I'm starving ."

It had been a long time since Bucky had had another adult in his apartment for more than a few minutes. He'd had CPS check the place out when they'd first moved in, but that had been pretty cursory. And Bucky hadn't slept for a week and a half leading up to that visit.

He knew rationally it was tidy, but he still panicked something would be wrong, that Steve would see the inside of his apartment and see right through Bucky. He'd see inside and know that he wasn't a good parent, that he was somehow inadvertently fucking Laura's life up, and that he didn't deserve to have her. He could feel his panic begin to overwhelm him, and while he did have some valium on him, he couldn't take it without Steve seeing him.

But Steve didn't seem to mind at all. "Oh my god, Sarah was right. That smells amazing," Steve said when they got inside. He toed off his shoes in the foyer, revealing socks with dancing pineapples on them. For some reason that made Bucky smile. "Do you mind if I…?" He gestured at his tie and suit and Bucky shook his head as he went around turning lights on and adjusting the heating.

He listened to Steve chatting away with Laura and Sarah while he did the finishing touches on dinner. He had pre-cut the vegetables but hadn't cooked them. He'd learned that one the hard way; reheated vegetables were horrible. Steve accepted some coffee when he offered, apparently planning to stay up late working on his case.

"Seriously," Steve said around his first mouthful of dinner. "This is amazing. You're amazing."

Bucky shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant.

"It wasn't always this good," Laura pointed out. "He sucked when we first met. But you're good now, Papa."

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand. "Thanks Laura," he muttered, awkward.

Cooking wasn't really a thing he'd worried about until a few months ago. After his parents had died, after he'd left foster care, he'd gone into the army and spent more time overseas on tours than in his own place. Cooking hadn't been a priority. He hadn't even enjoyed it that much, and Laura was right. He had sucked at it initially. But he hadn't wanted her to live on take out, and now he had the time. God, he had so much time.

If he had let himself, he'd have spent all day in bed feeling sorry for himself, letting depression eat away at him. Cooking had been one of the many things he'd forced himself to do every day, even on the days when he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. And over time, it had improved. He could pretty reliably make something good now, and it didn't exhaust him anymore.

"Well, regardless of how it used to be, it's amazing now," Steve said, beaming at him. "We barely have home cooked meals. I mean, there's a great meal delivery options now so we can still have half decent food and not live off takeout… But… I don't really cook." He looked a little embarrassed to be admitting that, and looked up at Bucky through his ridiculously long eyelashes. "I guess it's kind of less of a priority when I'm working so much. I know I should cook more, but…"

Bucky cocked his head at Steve, staring a little. He finally shrugged. "It's not a big deal. You work a lot. Long as you're feeding her, I figure it's not the end of the world."

"That's what you'd think, but some of the Moms would have you believe I was locking her in a cupboard at night because I don't feed her organic, home cooked meals every night," Steve said with a roll of the eyes.

Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably. "This is organic."

Steve's eyes widened and he looked horrified for a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that I don't think organic is essential to being a good parent, and I-,"

"I'm kidding, Steve," Bucky admitted with a smirk as he sank back into his chair. "I mean, the meat in the casserole is organic and grass-fed but that's only because that's all they had in the cut I was after." He shrugged again and tried to focus on his food again.

"Sometimes the moms at school make us food because they think Daddy is cute," Sarah quipped while chasing the peas on her plate around with her fork. "But they usually taste funny."

"That's because you’re so used to preservatives, sweetie," Steve joked, winking at Bucky. Bucky choked a little on his food and tried to cough quietly, eyes watering as he did.

Jesus, Barnes, get it together. Another adult winked at him, and suddenly he felt like he was in high school again. At least he could use the coughing as an excuse for why his face was red and he felt hot all of a sudden. But hey, this was a good thing, right? These things hadn't even been on his radar since he'd come back, so it had to be good for his recovery that he was even vaguely thinking about this. His therapist would be so proud. Hi Sam, yeah, I popped a boner this week because the guy I was bitching about last week winked at me.

"You okay Papa?" Laura asked, passing him his water.

Bucky nodded, rubbing at his throat. "Just went down the wrong way."

"I thought preservatives were bad?" Laura asked, turning to face Steve. Bucky pitied him; he knew that when Laura got started on her questioning, she wouldn't stop. And would then go on the internet to try and find more answers. God, Steve was going to be talking about preservatives until midnight now.

"They are," Steve said. "Well, to a degree. I mean. They're not as bad as they're made out to be, but they're not great either." He huffed, clearly a little flustered and not even close to the over-confident man he usually saw strutting around.

Bucky just smirked and busied himself with eating again. Steve could deal with Laura now.

Laura kept asking Steve question after question through the rest of dinner and then dessert. Steve managed to keep up after his initial fumble, and once he was focused on Laura rather than Bucky, he lost some of the flustered uneasiness. Bucky was happy to leave them be; it was nice to catch a break, but still be in company. People were exhausting, but loneliness was harder.

With dessert finished, Steve finally exhaled and leaned back in his chair. "Thank you so much for feeding us tonight, and for watching Sarah tomorrow. You have to let me take you both out next week. Or I could cook for you once this case is finalised."

Sarah wrinkled her nose beside him, which clearly expressed what she thought of his cooking. "We'll take you out," she said, patting Bucky's arm and doing a double-take when it felt solid beneath his sweater. She pulled his sweater back a little, and looked with deep interest at his arm, poking the gold lines that ran through the metal, moving it so she could get a better look From the corner of his eye, he could see Steve was torn between horror at Sarah's actions, and interest in looking the arm himself.

"I thought it was creepy when I first saw it," Sarah admitted, "but it's actually really pretty. Can you feel much with it?"

"A little bit. I can feel that you're touching it." She jerked her hand away, looking nervous. "No, it's okay. You… you can touch it if you want," he said, relieved to hear he'd been able to stop the tremor in his voice. He was still uncomfortable with most people touching him, but he reminded himself that he was safe, that this was safe, that nothing bad was going to happen.

Slowly, she grabbed it again, examining it, poking at his fingers and making them curl and uncurl. It felt odd, but Bucky was used to Tony doing his experiments, and this was no different. He was safe, this was safe, nothing bad was going to happen. Eventually she let go of the arm and smiled nervously up at him. "It's super cool. You're like half a robot."

“He’s actually a cyborg,” Laura said proudly, nodding her head in a manner-of-fact way.

"Say 'thank you', Sarah," Steve prompted.

"Thank you," Sarah said, barely keeping from rolling her eyes.

Bucky gave her a small smile that he knew didn't reach his eyes. He was tired, but he wasn’t uncomfortable. Laura had liked poking and prodding his arm a lot when she'd initially met him.

"I'll see you Saturday," Steve said with a relieved grin. "Seriously, thank you so much."

"If you thank me again, I'm going to take it back," Bucky warned, smiling slightly to indicate he was joking.

Steve grinned again, helping Sarah into her coat, Sarah calling out farewells to them both as he took her down the hallway, and disappeared down the stairs.

*

Steve wasn't back after ballet, so Sarah came back with Laura and Bucky after. She smiled, but he saw the little look of disappointment in her face when he wasn't there to pick her up. Bucky had known he wasn't coming, having received a message from Steve halfway through the class. It made something in Bucky's chest tighten and he decided that ice cream was a great idea, even though it was cold outside. The girls didn't seem to mind, and it did make Sarah smile again, so he figured it was okay.

It was early afternoon when Steve finally came by.

"So sorry I couldn't get her after class," Steve said by way of greeting. He looked exhausted and even more frazzled than a few days earlier. His suit was rumpled and his hair almost looked greasy.

Frankly, it was refreshing to see. It made Bucky feel like he had his shit together comparatively, actually. Steve, the Perfect Dad according to all the mom's at the school, was far from perfect.

"Hi Steve!" Laura said brightly, waving before returning her attention to the TV.

"Hey Dad," Sarah said coldly, not looking away from Frozen . Sarah had wanted to watch Transformers but Laura had seen Bucky's reaction to explosions when she'd first come back and had managed to convince her into something else. Shit, Bucky loved his kid. Laura hadn't even mentioned to Sarah that Bucky hated those movies. Bucky would have dealt with it just fine; okay, he would have just had a double-dose of his Valium, and gone to read in another room, but still. He was going to give Laura flowers or something later as a thank you.

"Hey sweetie." Steve looked tired, and a little sad. "Did you enjoy your sleepover?"

"Yup."

Steve's face tightened and he sighed softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here after ballet. Do you want to go get ice cream?"

"Nope," she retorted, still staring at the television. " Bucky got us ice cream after ballet."

Bucky's stomach tightened and he felt a little sick. He didn't want to be used as something to come between them.

Steve sighed again. "C'mon Sarah. Let's leave Bucky and Laura alone."

Sarah got up, her arms folded across her chest, lower lip sticking out just slightly. She disappeared into Laura's bedroom to pack her things and Laura cautiously followed after her, shooting nervous glances at Bucky. He shrugged, not sure what he could do.

Steve ran a hand over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Thanks again."

"It was no problem," Bucky said, still feeling awkward in light of Sarah and Steve's tension. He had learned to pick up on these things as a matter of literal survival.

"Um. The girls have a birthday party next weekend. Another sleepover."

Bucky nodded. It was Mary-Jane's, and Laura had been puzzling over what gift to get her. It had been annoying, but he was somewhat relieved she had friends, so he just swallowed any irritation he had with the matter.

"Would you like to grab dinner that night? There's a great wine bar up on Atlantic, and they do nice tapas." Steve's expression was cautious, but hopeful.

Bucky hesitated, feeling his stomach tighten, the sensation spreading to his chest. Socialising with another adult? Without Laura as a buffer? Someone that… didn't know everything like his therapist and Tony knew? Bucky wanted to be sick. He was going to be sick. He inhaled slowly through his nose, mind ticking a thousand thoughts per second.

Answer.

He had to answer Steve.

Answer faster, he'd think something was wrong if Bucky took too long.

"Sure," Bucky choked out, cursing himself for agreeing to it. He couldn't do this yet! He liked Steve. A lot. His body liked Steve a lot too. And the was exactly why he couldn't go to a wine bar with him. A cute guy, plus wine, plus Bucky, plus his PTSD? Asking for a nightmare. Oh god, he couldn't do this, he couldn't, he-.

No.

No, it was okay.

Steve was okay. Steve was a safe person. Bucky was safe here. Nothing bad was going to happen from getting dinner with Steve.

"Great! 7pm? Meet there?" Bucky nodded mutely. "Great! You know the place right? Yeah. Great. Great." Steve exhaled, shoulders sinking in apparent relief. "Wear something nice."

Bucky looked down at his current clothing, a long-sleeved tee and jeans. Fuck. He didn't really own much beyond this and a few suits for when he'd had to go to court. Fuck. Fuck. He was regretting this already. How nice was nice in this town? Everyone dressed up to go to the supermarket; what did they wear to nice wine bars? Oh god, Bucky had never cared about what he wore before… Actually, he had. He used to care a lot. He'd only stopped caring since coming back.

Steve seemed to sense something wrong with Bucky, his expression morphing. “Hey, don’t stress. I can loan you something if you need, but honestly, what you wear most of the time is fine.” He gave Bucky another tired smile, one that made Bucky’s heart race in ways he wasn’t sure was just his anxiety.

Sarah finally returned from Laura's room, still looking sullen. She slung her backpack over her shoulders and said "'Kay. Ready."

"Do you want me to take your backpack?" Steve asked, looking sad again and a little desperate.

"No," she sulked.

Steve sighed and gave Bucky a forced smile. "Thanks again, Bucky. See you Tuesday."  

Laura threw herself back on the couch and started the movie again. "Sarah's sad that her dad's never around," she said absently.

Bucky sat slowly beside her. He really wanted to go shower or… something. He needed to do something to distract himself. "Yeah, I know," he said, realising belatedly that he was supposed to say something.

"I used to be sad that you weren't around, after Mama died."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said, feeling his throat close over. He hated being reminded of it, but it was the price he paid. Laura never tried to make him feel bad about it, but he suspected that would come out when she hit puberty.

"It's okay, Papa. I'm just glad you came back. And I get to see you all the time now." She gave him a big grin and scooted over beside him, pushing his arm up and around her shoulders. He hugged her close. He didn't know when kids stopped hugging but he hoped he had another few years of it.

"Me too, kid. Me too."

Chapter Text

Saturday came around too quickly. Bucky spent half the week panicking about his upcoming date with Steve. Was this a date? Steve seemed straight but Bucky was a walking, talking example of how stereotypes were stupid. Bucky had been messing around with guys since he knew what messing around was. He knew not to judge someone's sexuality until their tongue was in his mouth. But… Steve had invited him to drinks. Was this just drinks, one single dad to another? Or was this more?

Fuck.

Bucky had never been good with dating. He'd had a boyfriend in high school, but that had lasted a few months. He hadn't dated since. He'd fucked. A lot. God, he'd slept with what had to be half of New York City by the time he'd first shipped out. But dates? Not his thing.

At least twice a day in the lead up, Bucky contemplated cancelling on Steve. But if this wasn't a date, then he'd look damn stupid for freaking out so badly.

However, the day finally arrived. Bucky had spent too long browsing a website called Pinterest for ideas on what to wear and had finally settled on a button-down shirt, and black suit pants. He still wasn't sold on the skinny tie thing, but it didn't look bad, he thought. Did it?

Fuck it, he was having a Valium.

He trimmed his beard, and combed his hair, and paced the apartment for about an hour. He googled things to talk about, and did his yoga, and panicked, and sat on the bathroom floor, and nearly messaged Steve to cancel six times. After pacing the carpet in his living room flat, he managed to force himself out the front door, and walked to the wine bar; it was just over a mile away and he didn't want to worry if he wanted a few drinks. Plus, parking was a nightmare, and he needed the walk to clear his head.

He was okay. He was safe. Nothing bad was going to happen. He was safe. Steve was a safe person.

He was early by a few minutes but Steve was standing outside, wrapped in a coat and scarf, his pale cheeks flushed in the cool evening air. Bucky's stomach twisted, but not in the bad way. It made him feel warm, made his chest tighten and a fluttery feeling burst in him. No, this was just two dads, catching up. Steve was probably almost as lonely as him.

"Bucky! Hi!" Steve said breathlessly, beaming so brightly that Bucky couldn't help but smile, albeit nervously, back. Some of the nerves in his chest eased and he exhaled.

"Hey. Enjoy the child-free afternoon?"

Steve's eyebrows rose. "Don't tell Sarah, but, yes. I did. I can't remember the last time I had even a few hours to myself. I'm either at work, or with her. And I know it's not enough, but I'm…" He cut himself off, grimacing. "C'mon, let's get inside. It's cold out."

The bar was nice, all shadows and warmth and candlelit. Not too busy, which surprised Bucky given it was a Saturday night, but he wasn't going to complain. He didn't do so well with crowds anymore; his youth had been spent sneaking into nightclubs, but these days even going to the supermarket at peak time made him shake and sweat.

It wasn't outright romantic, but it definitely could have the vibe if you wanted to take someone there on a date. Steve lead them to a large couch in one corner of the room, and when he let Bucky sit first Bucky made sure his back was to the wall and he had clear view of the doors. Steve looked even better underneath the peacoat he checked in, wearing an impossibly tailored baby blue business shirt, and dark trousers. Bucky inwardly relaxed about his own outfit. He'd worn the right thing.

"You look great," Steve told him as he passed a small leather-bound menu over. Bucky took it, absently playing with the leather cord on the side. "I like the tie." Bucky glanced down at his tie, glad that it was shadowy so Steve wouldn't see his blush.

"Thanks. I uh. I like your shirt." And really, he did. He was pretty sure he would be able to see Steve's nipples through it if he squinted.

Steve looked down at the menu, biting his lower lip. Bucky cursed himself inwardly, wondering if he'd overstepped. "So uh, the mulled wine here is amazing. They only brought it back last week; finally cold enough to justify it, I guess."

At Steve's recommendation, they ordered several plates of tapas, and some mulled wine. It really was as good as Steve had said. Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd had alcohol. It had been years; after he'd come back there had been so many medicals, and the recovery, and… alcohol had been a bad idea. And drinking around Laura felt irresponsible.

"So, tell me about Laura's mom," Steve said, leaning back in the large chair and sipping his wine. "I was sorry to hear she's no longer with us. Were you together long?"

Bucky's throat tightened. Gee, he thought he was bad at conversation. What a way to start! "We weren't actually together. We were friends and about a week before I shipped out we got really drunk and… Laura happened. I uh… I don't usually swing that way." He shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea how conservative Steve was, but honesty was definitely the best policy, right? And it would help figure out if this was a date, right? "But she happened, and I'm glad she did, even if it was fucking dumb of me to have a kid at 21."

That was where Steve's eyebrows raised a little. "I knew you looked young!" He said it more to himself.

Bucky gave him a wry smile and took a mouthful of his own wine. It was good; warm, and fruity and the mug warmed his right hand. "So, I mean… It's not like I lost my wife, but I did lose a close friend." He trailed off.

Along with everything that had happened, he'd come back to find out one of his best friends had died and his daughter was lost somewhere in the system. Again, thank fuck for Tony. He'd organised lawyers left, right and centre, and had even discovered that she'd had life insurance that hadn't been paid out. Even if Bucky hadn't received his great comp payout, plus his disability benefits, Laura would at least be set for college thanks to that.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, eyes earnest and honest. He sat forward as he said that and rested a hand on Bucky's arm for a moment.

Bucky cleared his throat, trying to remember how to talk to people. "What about… yours?"

Steve shrugged and let his arm drop. "Standard story, really. Met in college, got married shortly after and had Sarah a little while later. But Peggy travels a lot for work, and…" He shrugged again. "It's honestly not that exciting. We just fell out of love, and divorced when Sarah was three. She has Sarah sometimes for holidays if she's not working, but aside from that, I have her full-time. No bad blood there. I haven't really dated since though. I've just been so busy working, and trying to be a good dad, and it doesn't really leave a lot of time for all that." He ran his finger over the edge of his mug. "How're you doing? Settling in okay?"

Even in the low light his eyes were bright, and they stared into Bucky's.

"Yeah. I mean. It's nice here. Quiet. Laura really likes her school. I like the trees." He liked the trees? Jesus, way to sound like a simpleton, Barnes. "I mean, it was… I was. It was dark before. I didn't see outside much. It's peaceful here." Oh god, he wasn't helping at all. He took another large drink of his wine, hoping it would help him relax more.

Steve had such an expression of earnestness that it made Bucky feel weirdly naked. But at least he didn't have the sympathetic expression; that would have meant Bucky would have to start hating the guy, which would have been a shame, since Steve was turning out to be pretty decent.  

"I'm just glad you're here, and are okay now," Steve said finally. "At least, I assume you are. You seem okay."

Bucky laughed. "Well it's nice to know that I at least give off some semblance of having my shit together."

It was really nice to know that. Bucky put a lot of time and effort into making it seem like he wasn't falling apart at the seams and it was great to know that it wasn't all for nothing. And sometimes, he even believed that he was actually semi-stable.

"You sometimes make me feel kind of shitty as a parent. I mean, after everything you've been through… Laura seems so happy. You're always there for her, and you cook , and your place is always tidy." Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "I work a lot. I know it bothers Sarah that I'm never around, but I'm close to being made senior partner, and if I can just do this for another year or two…" He trailed off. "Sorry, didn't mean to unload."

Bucky shrugged. "It's nice to know others don't have their shit as together as much as I think." He frowned then, something finally clicking. "Wait. You… know about…?" He waved offhandedly, knowing Steve would understand what he was asking.

Even in the dim light he saw Steve blush. "Yeah. I followed the story. And, uh, I may have google searched you."

Bucky grimaced. "Right. Right. It's in some public documents, so it's not technically secret." He rubbed a hand over his face. It wasn't bad that Steve knew, but it was pretty uncomfortable that he did. How long had he known? Had he only been nice to him because he felt pity? Suddenly, everything soured again. He hadn't liked Steve initially, but he'd warmed to him over time, had seen him be weird and awkward, and try hard to be a good dad but fail at times.

"I'm sorry. This is terrible first date conversation," Steve winced, tugging at his hands and paying his nails an inordinate amount of heed.

Without thinking, Bucky asked "So this is a date?"

"Well, yes, I mean. If that's okay. It's okay if you don't want and…" He looked so flustered and unsure that Bucky had a hard time imagining him defending anyone in court. Fortunately, it was also endearing as fuck.

Channelling some of that courage he knew he used to have, Bucky reached a hand out to squeeze Steve's thigh. Steve stopped his stuttering instantly, eyes on the hand on his knee. Bucky gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, hoping that it said what he couldn't in words. Steve smiled back, relief filling his face.

The food was amazing, and they talked until it was almost closing. Steve had grown up in Brooklyn before going to NYU, liked art, had had a multitude of health issues growing up, and was raised by a single mom. He was really hot when he spoke about social justice issues, his cheeks getting flushed, and using far more words than Bucky usually used in a week.

Bucky has been nervous, worried he wouldn't know what to talk about. The last year of his life has been therapy, court battles, way too many medical appointments and physical therapy sessions. Before that… Well. It had been a really long time since Bucky had… had hobbies. He did enjoy going to the gym each day, but he didn't know if that counted as a hobby as it was kind of necessary for him with his arm and all.

But somehow, Steve had pulled out which books he loved, which movies he used to enjoy and which he enjoyed now. He even seemed genuinely interested in Bucky's baking experiments, and laughed when he told him about his miserable attempts at knitting. Steve made him feel… less broken, and more like a human being, something he hadn't felt like in a very long time.

They were stacking the chairs up around them when Steve finally asked for the bill. Bucky felt warm and loose, and happy. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and his stomach had hurt a few times from laughing. Bucky smiled a lot, but he didn't laugh often.

When he went for his wallet, Steve shook him off. "No, I insist. I asked you out, and I picked the place."

"I'm really not struggling-," Bucky tried to argue, awkward at the sight of the bill.

"Then you can pay next time," Steve retorted, tongue poking out absently as he calculated a substantial tip.

"Oh, so there's going to be a next time?" Bucky couldn't stop the smile on his face, and didn't want to.

"I sure hope so." Steve's eyes met his, all honest and vulnerable, and Bucky melted. "Can I walk you home?"

Bucky snorted, dissolving into what could only be described as giggles. Everything felt so soft , so nice . "We're not in high school, Steve."

Steve's chin jutted out stubbornly, a smile playing at his lips. "Shut up and let me walk you home, jerk."

Steve's hand was warm in his as they walked, and his stomach did flips as they went. The night had been nice, and Steve was regaling him with some of the more ridiculous cases he'd done recently, his voice somehow soothing. Bucky only half listened, making agreeable sounds as necessary and just enjoying this. He hadn't had to worry about anything.

He was disappointed when they finally reached his apartment.

"Thank you for tonight," Bucky said, meaning it.

"Thank you for joining me. I wasn't sure if…" He waved offhandedly, but Bucky knew what he meant. It was always a gamble. Steve's hand came up to rest on Bucky's cheek, stroking the artful stubble he'd spent an hour fussing over. His eyes searched Bucky's face for something and he asked softly, "May I?"

Bucky nodded, holding his breath.

Steve's mouth was soft against his, but insistent. He tasted like wine, heady and warm, licking gently into Bucky's mouth, the barest hint of tongue. Bucky let himself be kissed, but slowly responded after a few moments when he realised he liked it, when there was no panic response. He hadn't realised that Steve was tense until he relaxed; he must have been nervous too. That helped more than it should have. Bucky slowly snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, bringing their bodies together.

God, it had been years since he'd been kissed.

Steve pulled back a little, his thumb on Bucky's cheek stroking his jawline. "Still okay?"

Bucky answered by leaning in and kissing him again, determined to taste more. Steve moaned softly into his mouth and his hand came up to thread through Bucky's hair firmly. His heart pounded, and his knees felt weak, and god, Bucky wanted to do this for hours.

"D'you wanna come upstairs?" Bucky asked, pulling back a few bare inches, and regretting the distance instantly.

Steve nodded, but not before kissing him again. They were so distracted by the kisses that Bucky almost forgot about going upstairs. But then Steve shivered, and Bucky remembered… inside… warm… And extricated himself from Steve's hold.

Once inside, it felt awkward again, the air charged. Was this leading where Bucky thought it was? He'd had a lot of sex in his time, but not since he'd come back. And he wasn't counting anything that happened while he was imprisoned…  He didn’t know how he’d react. Would he freak the fuck out? Would he ruin any chances of a good time with Steve as a result? He didn’t wake up with nightmares of that at least; maybe it would be okay?

He needed another drink.

They made awkward small talk, and Bucky got them both a drink, his glass at least three fingers more full than Steve’s before sitting beside Steve on the couch.

It was silent.

He really should have put some music on or something.

But then Steve seemed to steel himself and moved forward, kissing Bucky hard again. Bucky relaxed, kissing back. They were back in familiar territory for both of them now, and aching and need surged through every part of him.

Steve was a goddamn biter, and it was absolutely sinful, made Bucky feel weak in the knees and glad he was sitting. He tilted his head back, letting Steve nip at his neck and shoulders, whatever he could reach with his shirt in the way. His hands kept running through Bucky's hair, nails dragging down his scalp and the back of his neck. He groaned.

Steve pulled him up and over him; Bucky moved to straddle his hips. He was moving easily now, no longer nervous. His limbs felt like they were made of jelly. Steve was hard beneath him, his erection tenting his trousers. Bucky ground down against him, and dragged his right hand down Steve's shirt, unbuttoning as he went. The material was soft and delicate, the buttons slipping free of their holes easily.

With it gone, Bucky attacked Steve's chest with his mouth, biting back and making Steve's hips jerk forward against his.

"Bedroom?" Steve asked, fumbling with Bucky's shirt as he sucked marks onto his neck and jawline.

"Uh-huh." Bucky felt too lust-drunk to get more words out. Steve shimmied forward on the couch, hands going under Bucky's ass and… What the fuck, Steve actually lifted him up, carrying him to the bedroom. Bucky did not squeak, and if you said he did, he'd deny it to his dying days. Steve kept kissing him, somehow didn't drop him, and finally dropped Bucky onto his bed.

"Holy shit," Bucky breathed, dragging Steve down again. Steve fumbled Bucky's shirt off, or tried to, before Bucky stopped him.

"I…" Bucky lowered his eyes, breathing heavily. Nobody except his doctors and Tony had seen his arm. Laura had seen his forearms, but Bucky didn't even wear short-sleeves most of the time. He wasn't sure why he was self-conscious about it… But… The idea of Steve seeing it, fearing it… It terrified him. And the scarring… Even Bucky struggled to look at that, all red and raised and still furious-looking despite the care he’d given it in the last year.

Eyes on Bucky's, Steve stopped and slowly peeled Bucky's shirt down, easing it down. Bucky broke their eye contact, cheeks flaming. His breath came in a little shorter. When he finally found the strength to look back up at Steve's face, mostly shadowed and only visible thanks to the light in the living room, he saw only gentleness, a softness in his eyes that made some of the fear seep out of Bucky.

"May I?" Steve asked, hovering a hand over his shoulder.

He wasn't sure how he'd react. Nobody touched it… like this. The doctors touched it clinically, examining the nerve damage, the pain levels. Tony tried not to touch it at all, and when he did it was merely to move things around. But Steve was looking at him like he was something precious, and so, taking a shaky breath, Bucky nodded.

Steve's hand was warm on his collarbone, fingers trailing down where metal met skin. It didn't hurt, the sensation dulled thanks to more nerve damage than he cared to think about. His hands trailed down his arms, and he felt the pressure, a weird tickling that still felt unusual and foreign. Steve's fingers reached his own, running over his knuckles and then threading through. He brought Bucky's hand to his lip, and kissed at the knuckles, all the while meeting Bucky's eyes.

He'd never felt so naked, and exposed. That was saying something.

"Thank you for trusting me," Steve said, voice soft in the dark stillness. "You're gorgeous."

Bucky broke the eye contact again, giving him a tight smile. And then Steve was on him again, kissing him hard, hands fumbling to remove his trousers. Steve finally managed to take hold of him and Bucky fucked forward a little, moaning wantonly. Way… too… long…

He fell back against the bed, eyes occasionally rolling back when Steve did something that felt particularly nice.

"God, you look amazing," Steve said, jerking him off a little faster. Bucky's back arched and he pushed into the touch. "I've had such a boner for you since I saw you drive that damn Camaro into that parking lot back in August."

Bucky pulled back and cocked his head at Steve. "What?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Your… Your car was hot. The way you move like you don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of you… Also hot as fuck."

Bucky chuckled and kissed him again. He wasn't about to let Steve know he absolutely did give a fuck what others thought. Steve moved down his body, fingers trailing over Bucky's chest and stomach, sending tingles through his skin that remained even after they stopped touching him. Steve dragged his underwear off completely, tossing them behind him. Bucky's head spun as he felt wet heat around his cock, and he had to stare at the ceiling to stop himself coming at the sight of Steve's mouth around his cock.

His toes curled and his fingers grasped the blankets below him. Holy fuck, it felt incredible, all heat and sensation. Steve moaned desperately around his cock and when Bucky chanced a look down, he saw Steve's hand at the front of his own underwear. He let his head fall back, breathing hard. God, he looked so good down there.

Steve pulled away panting, coughing a little. His expression was sheepish. "Sorry, I'm a bit out of practice," he admitted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Bucky didn't say anything, just put a hand at the back of his neck and pulled him back up into a heated, sloppy kiss. Steve's clambered into his lap, pressing his cock against Bucky's stomach, rutting gently against him. Bucky's hands trailed down his back and lingered at the band of his Calvin's, thumbing them for a moment before he slipped under the material and grasped Steve's (well-muscled - Jesus!) ass.

"Can I ride you?" Steve asked against his mouth. Bucky groaned, fingers digging in, spreading. Steve broke the kiss with another moan, pushing back into Bucky's hold.  "That a yes?"

"Mmm, mostly," Bucky teased, pressing short, sharp kisses to Steve's swollen mouth.

"Mostly?" Steve asked as he pulled back a breath, cocking his head.

Bucky smirked, and with surprising grace, rolled them so that Steve was under him.

Steve's head fell back, a sound of pleasure slipping from his mouth. "Holy shit that was hot."

Taking that as a hint, Bucky grasped Steve's wrists and pinned them above his head with his metal hand, his other hand teasing the front of Steve's underwear. Steve pressed into his hand, biting his lower lip, eyelashes fluttering.

Bucky released Steve's hands only to tug his underwear down.

"I… I think I have lube," Bucky muttered, frowning suddenly. He didn't really jerk off with lube, and his sex drive hadn't been all that prominent since he'd come back so it hadn't been a priority. Fuck, he definitely didn't have condoms though! He had been hoping this was a date, but he certainly hadn't expected to be bringing Steve home. He leaned over to the drawers beside his bed, fumbling around in the mostly empty nightstand until he came away with a small bottle, still nearly full.

"I've got some," Steve said awkwardly, biting his lip in such a way that it made Bucky want to bite it as well.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve. "Presumptuous much?"

"No," Steve protested. "No, I… I tend to carry them." He eased out from under Bucky and went to his suit, pulling a leather wallet out. "I just. I like to be prepared, okay?"

"Uh huh," Bucky deadpanned. He didn't mind though, was just grateful that Steve was a bit of a Boy Scout at heart otherwise he'd be settling into a blowjob. Not that he'd say no to the blowjob option either. Without Steve there to distract him, he had to take stock of himself. He was a little lightheaded, the wine working its way through him. He hadn't had that many glasses, but he'd had enough that he was definitely just shy of drunk.

Maybe drunk.

Definitely drunk.

But then Steve's hands and mouth were on him again, and suddenly Bucky didn't mind the warmth flooding his body.

When he finally pressed in, Steve moaned loudly . It sent such delicious thrills up and down his spine, made his toes curl a little, and for a moment he was so distracted from what he was doing that he forgot to move. The muscles of Steve's back were accented by the shadows, and, wow, this guy was built like a damn work of art. He let his hands trail down Steve's shoulders, down to his narrow waist, marvelling at the incredible ratio.

But then Steve shoved back against him, encouraging him to "fucking move already". And he clenched around him, which was just playing dirty if you asked Bucky. With one hand pinning the back of Steve's head down, and another reaching around, Bucky did.

*

Bucky woke up feeling like he was dying. No, no, Bucky had nearly died countless times, and that had been way more pleasant than this. His head ached and his skin felt like it had a thick layer of grime on it and where his shoulder met his metal arm felt like fire under his skin. He felt like he was sleeping on a boat with how the world swayed so much.

He pushed himself to sit up with a weak moan, closing his eyes against the tiniest glimmers of morning light that pushed through the blinds. The floor definitely felt like it was swaying and he stumbled to the adjoining bathroom and sank to the floor beside the toilet. Maybe the cool ground would help… He vaguely remembered to shut the bathroom door, fumbling blindly behind him as he lurched forward to vomit everything from last night up.

It burned his nose and mouth, and the wine didn't taste nearly as good the second time around.

He mustn't have closed the door properly because somewhere in his heaving, Steve stepped in behind him, and gathered his hair back properly. Bucky had been holding it, but not nearly as well as Steve was, and were it not for the shame he felt, he might have smiled his thanks. As it was, even if he wanted to thank Steve, the retches were currently pretty relentless.

Finally, they eased off when he was vomiting bile, and he sank back to the floor, a whimper caught in his throat. He flushed the toilet and leaned back against the toilet, closing his streaming eyes. After he'd finished wiping his nose and mouth he finally managed to open his eyes again.

"Sorry," he said, wincing at Steve. He'd find the strength to be mortified later; for now, he just wanted to die. Fuck, he felt bad.

"I'm not feeling particularly great either," Steve admitted, looking a little peaky.

"Yeah… I should have started slow after six years of nothing."

"Let me get you some water," Steve said, groaning as he got off the floor. Bucky hated that he was feeling as sick as he was; Steve's ass was right there, looking utterly delectable in his briefs, and Bucky really would have loved giving him beard burn between his thighs, but alas…

After showering, Bucky crawled back into bed. The Advil was hopefully going to start doing its job soon and he looked forward to sleeping it off. Steve had changed the sheets (definitely wise; they'd ruined them the night before) and once Bucky was settled he crawled in beside him, resting his head on Bucky's normal shoulder.

"The girls messaged and asked if they could stay for lunch, so… nap?" Steve asked.

"God yes…" Bucky groaned, head falling forward to rest against Steve's. It smelled good, fruity, and felt soft beneath his cheek.

When he next woke up he was alone. He could hear Laura and Sarah talking in the living room, Steve hushing them and reminding them for apparently the third time that Bucky was sleeping. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head. He felt a little better, and much of the throbbing subsided. When he glanced at the clock beside his bed he winced; it was 2pm. Bucky hadn't done anything like this in years.

He felt like he needed another shower, but feeling guilty for having wasted a day, and for leaving Steve to babysit, he instead just rinsed his face and went to join the land of the living.

"Hi Papa!" Laura whispered loudly when he entered the living room. "Is your migraine gone?"

God bless Steve. He'd used the migraine excuse, rather than pointing out he was hungover as fuck.

"Sort of," Bucky said, giving her a tired smile and patting her on the head as he went to slump on the couch beside Steve. He rested his head against Steve's shoulder, not sure how much physical contact was allowed. With a cold jolt of dread, he realise maybe the night before had been a drunken mistake to Steve, or even just a casual hookup. He had said he didn't date much.

But then Steve's hand snaked around his shoulders, brushing the back of his neck softly, and he kissed the top of his head. Warmth replaced dread; that was surely not one-night behaviour.

"Ew, Dad," Sarah said, wrinkling her nose. "Kissing is gross."

Bucky glanced up at Steve's face to find him physically restraining himself from saying 'Don't tempt me', and smirked.

"Can I get you anything?" Steve asked, brushing his fingers through the hairs at Bucky's temple.

"Nah, I should get it myself. Sorry I left you alone all day."

Steve shrugged. "You watch the girls all the time. I was happy to help. You can't help getting migraines." Steve's eyes twinkled with mischief. He looked wrecked, but not nearly as badly as Bucky knew he looked. "Are there leftovers I can heat up or something? Coffee?"

Bucky nodded, rubbing his face against Steve's shoulder. Was he wearing one of Bucky's sweaters? Oh god, yes, he was wearing one of Bucky's sweaters. It looked so good on him, and fit him perfectly. It was going to smell like Steve. That… that shouldn't have affected him as much as it did.

"Decaf please. It should be in the pot already."

With a kiss on the forehead, Steve extricated himself from Bucky's hold, looking as if he deeply regretted having to pull away.

"What have you girls been up to today?" Bucky asked, resting his head on the back of the couch. "Was the sleepover any good?"

"It was amazing!" Laura gushed, but then seemed to remember Bucky's headache as she covered her mouth. "Sorry," she whispered. "It was amazing. She had a jumping castle last night, and then we stayed up until 2am watching Fast and Furious!" Bucky frowned; she was way too young for those kinds of movies. "And then we had pancakes for breakfast, and watched another movie. And she had a dog, and it was so cute and Papa, can we have a dog please ? I promise I'll walk it and feed it and cuddle it lots and you won't have to do anything."

Bucky chuckled. "Maybe," he said. He didn't mind dogs. He preferred cats admittedly, but he did like dogs. They were in an apartment, though, and having a dog would be cruel. That said, Bucky was home a lot, and maybe it would be good company… Maybe he could consider a dog. Or a cat. A question for later, when he wasn't violently hungover still.

Steve returned with a huge mug of coffee (the label had said "soup mug" but Bucky had always been a rebel), cream already added. "There's some lamb heating up," he said, fingers brushing Bucky's as he passed the mug. Despite his throbbing head and churning stomach, he found himself suddenly wishing that the girls weren't here. He was disappointed he'd missed out on languid morning sex. Steve seemed like the person who'd enjoy morning sex. Bucky was suddenly met with the mental image of Steve's back pressed to his, head tilted into Bucky's shoulder as Bucky fucked him hard and slow from behind. His memories of the night before were a little foggy, and he thought Steve had enjoyed himself, but Bucky really wouldn't have minded a refresher.

He blinked rapidly a few times, jolting himself back to reality. He was not meant to be thinking about sex right then! Gee, when it rained, it fucking poured. No libido in years, and suddenly it seemed to want to make up for lost time. Steve seemed to notice something in Bucky change, and he cocked his head, expression questioning. The beeping of the microwave drew him away.

"Oh my god, you're the best," Bucky breathed as Steve handed him leftovers from two nights before. "I'm so fuh- freaking hungry." He caught himself at the last minute. Unlearning swearing was fucking hard, okay?

They spent the afternoon watching movies, Steve's arm around his shoulders the whole time, Bucky relaxing and dozing sporadically against his chest. It was nice. Warm. Safe.

He had spent a lot of time reminding himself over the last nine months that he was safe, that he was okay, and some days he felt it. But this? This was the safest he'd felt in a long time. He would probably freak out about that later, worrying if he was falling too hard, too fast. But for now, he allowed himself the pleasure of just… enjoying the sensation. Right then, he didn't have to do more than be Bucky, just another guy. He didn't have to parent, or fight his stupidly intrusive thoughts. He didn't have to be holding it together anymore than he already was. It was nice. It was peaceful, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he got to have nice things.

Steve ordered in for them, Bucky too tired to cook.

Finally, after the sun went down, Sarah and Steve had to go. Bucky didn't want Steve to leave, wanted to talk to him more, wanted to drag him to the bed and just curl up naked beside him. It had been so long since Bucky had been touched, and it felt so good. But the girls had school tomorrow and being up until 2am had made them both grumpy in their own ways. An early night was needed for all parties, it seemed.

Just before they left, Steve ducked back into Bucky's bedroom to grab his clothes.

"I didn't know you got migraines often," Steve said as he rummaged around, apparently searching for his underwear. That made Bucky's mouth dry; Steve hadn't been wearing underwear the whole time? Oh god.

Bucky shrugged. "I got 'em more when I first got Laura. Not her fault, just a lot of medication adjustments, not all of them good. I don't get them much these days. Was a good excuse though; Laura absolutely would have bought it."

"I figured they didn't need to know we'd been drinking heavily."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, flushing. "I don't recall drinking that much, but apparently I did." Although… "Just occurred to me there's probably a med clash with alcohol. I haven't really had any alcohol since I changed 'em. Shit, that makes sense." He mused, more to himself than Steve.

Steve's looked rueful, lips quirking into a sad smile. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Bucky shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "Is what it is."

Steve was closer than he recalled, was looking at him with soft eyes, hand resting on Bucky's neck. Steve kissed him softly, Bucky's eyes fluttering closed.

"Can we do this again? Sometime soon?"

His stomach swooped. Bucky nodded. "I'd love that."

Steve frowned for a moment, running something through his mind. "What's your schedule during the day like?"

"I mean, pretty busy. I've gotta save the world, and style my hair, and cook dinner for Laura. I don't know if I can fit you in," Bucky teased. He did things; he cooked for both of them, his physical therapy, his emotional therapy, read, baked, cleaned, went on long walks, attempted knitting at times… maybe he did need a dog. When he thought about it, his days were pretty empty.

"Ha," Steve said drily. "Want to do lunch?"

"Sure," Bucky huffed, hoping his hair was hiding the blush that was creeping from his cheeks down to his neck.

"Any day. Any day, just message me and let me know. I'll make time for you."

With a grin, he nodded. Steve kissed him again, and Bucky deepened it after a few moments. It heated quickly, all tongues and teeth, his arms wrapping around Steve's little waist as he pulled him in close. Steve kissed him like he was going to die if he didn't, practically climbing him as they stood there.

All too quickly, he withdrew with a little groan, hands still gripping Bucky's t-shirt, nose brushing his.

"I should go," Steve said, voice filled with regret, "otherwise I'm going to want to throw you on that bed. And the girls…" He let his hands drop, trailing down Bucky's arm, fingers tangling with Bucky's momentarily and squeezing before he pulled away.

Bucky laughed and nodded. "See you Tuesday, at the latest. But, lunch. Let's definitely do lunch."

At the door, Steve sent Sarah to wait near the elevators, and kissed Bucky once more, lingering just a little longer, just a little more…

When he finally closed the door, Laura was sitting on the living room floor, nose scrunched.

"Adults are so gross," she informed him.

Bucky laughed, feeling giddy and embarrassed. "You're telling me, kid. You're telling me."

*

Steve had tried to be chill; he really had. He was new to this… dating thing, but he liked Bucky. If he'd been asked before their date specifically what it was he liked, he'd have been hard-pressed to say what, other than his car, and that he seemed like a perfect goddamn dad. But there had been something unexplainable about it, something that had lured him in the way nobody had been able to in many years.

He hadn't been celibate since Peggy, but he'd been pretty close to it. There had been a few one-nights when he visited New York for work, and even a disastrous attempt with OkCupid. But he'd been unable to be honest about his sexuality for fear of backlash towards Sarah, and then some the moms from Sarah's school had messaged him, and nope. Nope, Steve had mostly been out of the dating game for a really long time.

But then there was Bucky, gorgeous, reserved Bucky, who relaxed only around his daughter, and now, it seemed, Steve. He'd made Bucky laugh multiple times the night before, and if Steve had his way, he planned to do it every day that he was allowed. Everything had been perfect; even holding back Bucky's hair as he was sick had been weirdly nice. He liked looking after him.

He knew there were bizarre, archaic rules about dating. He remembered hearing about the stupid three-day rule back in college. Steve had ignored it then, and he was sure as hell going to ignore it now.

But then, the night got away from him before he could message Bucky. He ironed his and Sarah's outfits for tomorrow, replied to a few work emails, and Sarah sulked and grumped thanks to her late night. By the time he had her showered, and in bed, and finished all the chores he was meant to have done during the day, it was his own bedtime. Tucked into bed, weary and still a little hungover, but happy, he finally messaged Bucky.

There were also sixteen emails from work in the last hour, but they could goddamn wait.

Thank you for last night. It's been a long time since I've had such a great date. My schedule tomorrow looks pretty empty. Lunch tomorrow?

He spent at least half an hour puzzling over what to send, writing and rewriting message after message. Did he sound too casual? Too formal? Was this too soon? His schedule tomorrow wasn't actually empty at all, but he was willing to shift things for lunch with Bucky. Finally, he sent the fucking message, too frustrated and awkward, and figured if Bucky judged him on being an awkward sonofabitch… Well, he would kind of be right.

Bucky's message came through fifteen minutes later, Steve was half-asleep but jolting awake when he felt it vibrate in his hands.

Can do.

Steve squinted. A fifteen minute wait for two words? He quickly typed out his own reply, not letting himself worry incessantly about what he was saying.

My work, 12:30.

After a minute he followed it up with a ':)' just in case he seemed too bossy.

Bucky sent one back.

Satisfied, Steve put his phone away. His stomach flip-flopped on him, and he felt light and fluffy. He cuddled one of his pillows close and buried his grin in the squishiness of it.

He knew he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. It had just been one date, just one. And despite the drunkenness, the sex had been mind-blowing. He definitely needed a repeat of it, just to check it hadn't been the alcohol.

But he had a good feeling about it.

*

The morning dragged . Steve hadn't been this excited for something since, well, the lead-up to the date he'd had with Bucky just days ago. Yet their first date felt like a lifetime ago, and every minute that he had to wait for lunch was another minute of torture. He endured stupid meetings, and a talk with his boss (all good things, thank fuck), and even worked on a few of the cases he had been putting off. Nothing seemed to make the time go faster.

He kept anxiously checking his phone, worried that maybe Bucky would cancel. Maybe he came on too strong; that had always been one of his (many) problems. He cared a lot about things, and until he and Peggy had had Sarah, he'd always been unapologetically himself. After Sarah, he realised that he couldn't always be himself, that if he diverged from the perceived norm, other parents would take their frustrations at him out on her. And whilst he hated that that was the state of the world, he did what he thought was right for her.

Among his worrying, like magic, it was 12:31, and his phone rang. On the other end, the receptionist let him know that a Mr. Barnes was here to see him.

Steve had to physically stop himself from sprinting through the office into the reception.

Bucky looked as breathtaking as he usually did in a nice coat and jeans that Steve wanted to rip off him. He looked good; a little nervous, but Steve still wanted to drop to his knees and show him just how happy he was to see him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the receptionist, and blushed at his own thoughts, cursing his paleness for always showing the colour in his cheeks and no doubt giving away his infatuation.

"Bucky! Thanks for coming!" He threw his own coat over his shoulders and took Bucky’s hand, dragging him out the front door.. It was a beautiful day outside, and the street was busy with lunchtime traffic, pedestrian or otherwise. He turned to face him, suddenly nervous. "Is it okay to kiss you? I didn't want to make our receptionist uncomfortable and now I realize that you might not be okay with public displays of affection."

Bucky breathed a laugh and closed the small gap between them, leather-gloved hands resting on Steve's face, kissing him quick and sweet. When he withdrew a few moments later, he looked torn between pride, delight and shyness. The expression made Steve want to kiss him senseless.

"Hi," Bucky whispered, hands still on Steve's warm cheeks. "Nice to see you."

Steve melted internally. Instead of becoming a happy puddle on the sidewalk, which was a very real risk currently, he just grabbed one of Bucky's hands again, and squeezed it.

"So, you hungry? Where do you want to go for lunch?"

Bucky shrugged. "I could eat, but I don't really know many places around here."

"Did you drive? There's a place about six minutes’ drive from here."

Bucky nodded, a slow smirk crossing his face. "You're just looking for an excuse to take a ride in my car."

Steve laughed. "Is it working?"

Bucky grinned.

The Camaro was just as delightful as Steve had expected. Bucky clearly took care of it, and it still had the new car smell to it. And it drove beautifully, the engine rumbling as Bucky shifted gears smoothly. Steve longed to take it on a road trip, to see what it could really do and how easily it would handle everything thrown at it. Watching Bucky drive it also did terribly uncomfortable things for his pants situation. Bucky seemed to notice this and with a smirk shifted gears again and made the engine purr. This did not help the pants situation, and Steve was not sure if it was the smirk, the car, or both that did it.

They stopped at one of the rare sets of lights in town, and Bucky ran his eyes up and down Steve's body, lingering in a few places that made his cheeks go hot. His smirk became a wicked grin.

"Just how hungry are you?"

They stumbled into Bucky's apartment not ten minutes later, fumbling clothing off, tripping over jeans and suit pants, kicking away their shoes. They kissed so hard that Steve knew his lips would be red and swollen all afternoon. He was so fucking hard, was gagging for it, had been since Bucky had given him that purely evil grin. Bucky tossed him over onto the couch, pressing his body against his back and biting the junction between his neck and shoulder.

The sex was even better this time.

Bucky left him a writhing mess, panting desperately into the soft decorative cushions on the couch. Both warm and cool fingers spread his ass, licking into him and making him thrust mindlessly into the air in front of him. Bucky almost took him apart with only his tongue, and it was only when Steve begged for more that Bucky fucked into him. Apparently he'd found time to buy condoms in the last twelve hours.

Bucky fucked like a machine, hard and deep, and utterly relentless, spurred on by Steve's begging for more, harder, oh god yes. He bit at Steve's shoulders, fingers tight in his hair, and Steve bit his knuckles to stop the sounds earning Bucky a noise complaint.

Finally, he fell back against the couch, panting, his body slick with sweat and his mind buzzing pleasantly. Bucky collapsed beside him a minute later, grinning goofily.

"Not actually what I had in mind when I asked you to lunch, but I'll take it," Steve said once he'd regained some of his brain function, and ability to breathe. Bucky grinned and kissed him deeply again.

Eventually, Bucky extricated himself from Steve's hold, tugging his underwear back on as he went into the kitchen. Steve openly stared as he bent over to investigate the fridge, admiring muscled thighs and wow, that ass. If Steve wrote poetry, he’d write poetry about that ass. As it was he wanted to draw it, fingers aching for a pencil and sketch pad.

"So the best I can do is a sandwich. But it'd be a good sandwich," Bucky said, standing up and peering at Steve.

"Huh?"

Bucky's expression told him he was an idiot. "It's your lunch break. You gotta eat. And unless you feel like Burger King, nothing else is gonna be fast enough to get you back in a timely manner. So, sandwich?"

"Oh. Sure!"

Bucky grinned, and fished ingredients out. Steve pulled his underwear back on, and came to sit near him in the kitchen. Bucky made them both sandwiches… slowly.

"Stop it," Bucky said, no real force in his voice as he pushed Steve away from from their fourth or fifth kissing break. "If you don't let me finish, you'll go hungry. And a big boy like you clearly eats a lot."

Steve grinned. "You kissed me ."

"And can you blame me? You're sitting there, looking like all… that," he gestured with the butter knife at Steve's body. "Really, it's not my fault."

Steve laughed, blushing despite himself. He'd spent more time short and sickly, with hands and feet too big for his body, than he had like this. His growth spurt had come late. Really late. So even though he'd had this body for years, it was still foreign to him, was still absurd that people liked it, liked him.

They ate the sandwiches in their underwear, mostly silent but grinning. There was a warmth in Steve's stomach that spread and filled every fibre of his being.

The time passed too quickly, and eventually Bucky had to drive Steve back to work. In the lot in front of Steve's building, Bucky kissed him again, and they spent several minutes making out like teenagers. Every time Bucky's fingers found his hair and tugged, Steve whined and melted into the seat.

"Lunch tomorrow?" Bucky asked breathlessly, pulling away a few bare inches.

"What kind of lunch are we talking?" Steve asked, trying to will his semi-present erection to chill the fuck out.

"Both kinds? I'll pick you up. Have lunch prepared." He bit Steve's neck gently, just over his the collar of his business shirt.

"Yes," he breathed, doing his best to not climb into Bucky's lap then and there. "Yes. Okay. Okay. I…. Gotta… Go…" He said, punctuating each word with a kiss.

"Am… not… stopping you… pal… oh my god," Bucky protested. Eventually, he yanked away. "Okay, go, or I'm taking you home again."

Steve exhaled, sitting back in the seat and running his hands through his hair in a half-baked attempt to get it looking normal again. Thank god for the length of his coat, otherwise he'd have a really awkward situation in his slacks. Well, the situation still existed but at least it wouldn't be obvious when he walked in.

"One more kiss," he said, kissing Bucky deeply, quickly, before pulling away and darting out of the car, grinning like a loon.

*

"Wow." Bucky stared at the ceiling with eyes a little wide.

"Yeah," Steve breathed.

This… this was good. Two weeks had passed and by Bucky's math he'd gotten laid… every day. Fuck. He should start a habit tracker or something. His libido was back in force, and it seemed Steve was more than happy to match him blow for blow. Lunch time sex was great because they didn't have to worry about Sarah and Laura. It wasn't the hours-long sessions he really wanted to have with Steve, but this would suffice until they could make that work. For now, quickies during lunch and while the girls were at ballet on the weekend were acceptable.

He blinked at the ceiling a little more. Holy shit, did they have good sex. His limbs felt like jello, and he really wanted a nap… But he couldn't disrupt his routine. Steve had already disrupted his routine so often that he'd had a panic attack, and now needed to rewrite it. But he didn't mind the rewrite. It was a good rewrite, really.

Bucky grinned, and then started laughing. A lot. He felt delirious with it, honestly. Happiness wanted to burst out of him, and explode everywhere, and the only way to get it out was to laugh. When he glanced over at Steve, he was smiling, a little bemused, before laughing with him as well.

He finally managed to restrain himself. How was this his life? Just under a year ago he'd been dying in a small, damp cell. Now, he was in a nice apartment, with a happy kid who didn't hate him, and maybe even a goddamn hot boyfriend. Or a…something. He didn't know what he and Steve were, but Steve seemed to like him and Bucky was going to roll with that. It didn't seem real at times. It felt like more than he deserved, and yet, he wasn't going to fight it.

His therapist said he deserved nice things. Bucky did deserve nice things.

"You okay?" Steve asked, rolling over onto his side and drawing Bucky in close. It was only then that he realised he was crying, whilst laughing dizzily. Ugh. Real smooth, Barnes.

"Yeah, I'm… It's fine…" Bucky said breathlessly, burying his face in Steve's perfect goddamn chest. "Just a lot, I guess. I'm okay." Steve's hands ran up and down his back soothingly; he didn't seem like he was scared of Bucky, or like he thought Bucky was insane. Instead, Steve nuzzled the top of his head and kissed his forehead.

Bucky pulled away suddenly with a jerk, glaring at Steve's chest. "Wait, when the hell do you have time to work out? You work almost all the time!"

Steve blanched and coloured, and Bucky noticed for the first time that he blushed down almost as far as his nipples. "I mean, usually on my lunch breaks. Or I get up before Sarah does most days when I can. That's what I'm doing at the moment, because, well, I see you on my lunch breaks."

"How are you human?" Bucky said, cupping his pecs, thumbing at his nipples. Steve's eyelashes fluttered and his eyes rolled back just slightly.

"Mmm, if you keep doing that I'm going to be late for work," Steve muttered.

"Does that mean I should stop?" Bucky asked, easing his touch for a moment.

"God no. Don't you dare."

Chapter Text

Navigating a new relationship was complicated at the best of times. Navigating a potential new relationship was downright terrifying with a daughter in the mix. Things like sleepovers and sex became infinitely more complex because you couldn't just palm your kids off onto other parents every second day.

And in case everything between Steve and Bucky went pear-shaped, it felt weird to get Sarah and Laura involved… What if Bucky and he didn't work out? Sarah had enough unspoken abandonment issues without potentially adding Bucky into the mix and then removing him.

Steve knew he was getting ahead of himself given that they'd only been on a few dates, but when you had a kid, you had to think ahead. Okay, a few dates, and a lot of sex. Like, wow. So much sex. Really hot, intense, amazing sex, the kind he'd dreamed about in high school.

Anyway. He digressed.

Steve had never really dated. He had fallen for Peggy quite quickly, but he got the impression that people were often very casual about relationships. Steve didn't do casual. He couldn't afford casual.

Yet what he had with Bucky didn’t seem casual. Bucky lit up his insides and filled him with warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. They felt… easy, which was saying something, given how things had been between them initially. They felt natural and simple, and frighteningly domestic so quickly that Steve should have been terrified but simply wasn't.

After a few weeks of seeing each other every day for lunch, and the occasional evenings for dinner (just dinner, sadly), they were increasing things. Bucky and Laura had dinner with Steve and Sarah a few nights a week, usually with Bucky cooking dinner while the girls did their homework after ballet class.

So they had decided to try a sleepover at Steve's house one Friday night. It was delightful, and terrifying. They hadn't slept beside each other since their first date, and Steve didn't know what to expect. What if he snored and kept Bucky awake? Peggy had said he'd only snored when he was getting sick, but still! These things were stressing him. Regardless, his stomach burst into butterflies at the thought of falling asleep and waking up beside Bucky.

He hadn't actually sat Sarah down and discussed his sexuality with her, but he knew she had to have questions. There weren't many gay couples around town, and those that were around were flamboyant and bubbly in ways that neither Steve nor Bucky were. But Steve was a coward and figured he'd do it… another day. Maybe if things became more serious.

The night went well, as far as Steve could tell. They ordered pizza rather than cooking, and watched superhero movies ( Batman tonight) well into the night, with Bucky tucked under his arm. He occasionally tensed at a few explosions, but seemed to relax when Steve rubbed his back, or kissed the top of his head. Steve didn’t know what Bucky had gone through; the newspapers had been frustratingly vague. But Steve was a smart man, with an overactive imagination. He knew enough to know that Bucky had likely endured things he couldn’t even fathom. That he was able to get up every day and function as well as he did was incredible, and Steve felt privileged that Bucky chose to show him what little vulnerability he already had.

After sending the girls off to bed, Bucky crowded Steve against the kitchen bench, lifted him up, and kissed him completely breathless.

Steve had never been so grateful for Sarah's insistence that she had a room as far away from his as possible. Even then, he'd been terrified that the girls would figure out how to unlock his bedroom door or hear something they shouldn't. But Bucky was distracting, kissed like a dream, and fucked like he belonged in a porno, and Steve forgot entirely about his anxieties.

...It also helped that Bucky shoved his face into the pillows and held him down. And yeah, that probably shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but it was, and he certainly wasn’t complaining.

He woke to a cooler bed, and some muffled cursing from the bathroom. He glanced at his bedside clock, wincing at the little red digits that proclaimed it was in the very early hours of the morning.

Blearily, he made his way over and knocked on the door. He normally wouldn't have knocked but the cursing had him confused. Maybe Bucky had been sick again.

"Bucky?" He asked after the gentle knock.

There was the muffled sound of what had to be someone hitting their head against wood, and then more swearing. Cautiously Steve pushed the door open.

Bucky sat beside the sink in front of the open cupboards, rubbing his forehead. His hair was wet. Half of his bathroom cabinet was on the floor beside him, and there were several wet towels on the ground as well.

"Bucky. What the fuck?" Steve was too tired for this shit. He didn't mind, he was just confused .

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Bucky said miserably from the floor, face pinched in pain.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, bemused.

"Your tap was dripping," Bucky said, as if that explained everything. It really, really didn't.

"Sorry? We could have had it fixed during the day."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. "I can't sleep when I hear things dripping, apparently. It reminds me…" He trailed off, leaving Steve to piece it together.

Oh.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," Steve breathed, sinking down onto one knee beside him.

"Nah, not your fault. I didn't know until tonight either. But I couldn't sleep once I heard it, and I thought maybe I could fix it and then come back to bed with you." He was very determinedly not looking at Steve, eyes zeroed in on the corner of a pale blue tile that was apparently very, very interesting. There was the barest pink to his cheeks, but Steve had learned now that that was an intense blush on Bucky.

Steve grimaced and rubbed Bucky's bare knee in a way he hoped was soothing, but likely wasn't. "Is there anything I can do?"

Bucky gave him a weak grin. "Pass me that?" He pointed at the wrench just beyond his reach, and handed it over. Steve wanted to give him a small kiss, but wasn't sure that was appropriate for the moment. Instead, he just returned Bucky's nervous smile.

Bucky leaned back under the sink and fiddled with a few more things, and finally stopped moving. The bathroom was silent for a good minute before Bucky sat up with a small cry of victory and then a cry of pain as he hit the underside of the sink again .

Steve wasn't able to stop himself, and burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

"Owww… no, you shouldn't," Bucky agreed, rubbing his forehead. Steve shuffled forward on his knees, cupping Bucky's face and rubbing gently at his forehead.

"Thanks for fixing my tap," he said, kissing his forehead gently.

Bucky smiled up at him, expression delighted and sheepish at the same time. It was a good look on him. "I'm pretty sure there's a porno that starts like this."

Steve groaned and rested his head against Bucky's. "Buck, it's two in the goddamn morning. I love you, but we're not having sex right now."

Bucky laughed. "No, I'm tired too. My sleeping pills make me groggy; I probably couldn't get it up if I tried."

They tidied the bathroom up, or at least… sort of did.

"You take sleeping pills?" Steve asked as he tossed the soaked towels into the laundry basket.

"Yeah… I. Nightmares. You know?"

"Not really," Steve admitted. He had nightmares like any other person did, but he had a feeling that wasn't what Bucky was talking about. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Steve ventured, "Do you… want to talk about it?" They still hadn't talked about Bucky's history, and whilst it didn't exactly loom over them like some monster, it was something that probably ought to be discussed.

"Not really," Bucky sighed, running his hands through his damp hair to rid it of knots. "But I probably will. You know. Soon. Ish."

Steve pulled Bucky in close, settling his hands on his waist. "You don't have to talk about it, ever , if you don't want to. But if you do, I'm ready to listen. I want to know because I care about you, and care about what happened to you. I know it's early days, but I'm serious about this, and I’m serious about you. I want to know you."

Bucky's face was a mix of reactions; awkward, nervous, relieved, happy. "I figured you were serious when you slipped up before."

"Hmm?" Steve cocked his head, brain too tired to figure out what Bucky was saying.

Bucky chuckled, ducking his head. "I mean. You might not have meant it, but I do." He looked back up at Steve's face, pale eyes meeting his own. God, Bucky had gorgeous eyes. "I love you. I know it's early, but I feel good about this. There's a lot of stuff to sort out. But… I do. I love you."

Steve's heart felt like it wanted to explode and he realised he was grinning stupidly . Like, ear to ear, like an idiot, everywhere. And as he recalled the conversation from earlier, he realised what he’d said. He didn't even feel embarrassed, though, just delighted.

"I love you too. I'm sorry I screwed it up by letting it slip out like that."

Bucky shrugged and wound his arms around Steve's shoulders. "I dunno, pal, I kinda like that you did. Figured you probably meant it that way." He shifted a little closer to Steve, until their bare chests were touching. "Now, just how firm was that 'no' on the 2am sex?"

Steve snorted, tugged him in for a kiss, and then dragged him back to bed.

2am sex, as it turned out, was actually pretty great.

*

Children crowded the streets, an utterly terrifying amount of children. Steve could tell Bucky didn't like it, but he took an extra Valium and gritted his teeth to make it work. Besides, Laura was excited and Sarah, although she tried not to show it, was as well. Steve liked children, but there was something about Halloween that was slightly overwhelming.

At least he hadn't had to dress up this time. For a few years, Sarah insisted on them having matching costumes, and Steve had bravely donned some rather ridiculous outfits, up to and including a dancing monkey costume, and a ballet dress. Sarah had only been four at the time, and had screeched with so much happiness that it was worth the attack on his dignity. He’d never been that worried about that anyway.

Tonight, Laura had wanted them to come trick-or-treating with her, and Bucky never really knew how to say no to her, and in this particular case, Steve was inclined to agree. So they followed the girls around the neighbourhood. Laura had dressed as the Swan Queen from Swan Lake and was so excited by her costume that she’d been wearing it every night in the lead up to Halloween. Sarah had dressed as Carmen Sandiego, red hat almost broader than her little shoulders. Peggy would have been proud.

Trick-or-treating wasn't that bad once they got started. The relationship was still new, and Steve was just happy to have another chance to spend time with Bucky. Sarah thought she was too old to have a parent supervising her trick-or-treating, but damn it, Steve was not letting her out alone just yet. Even during Halloween, terrible things happened. So he and Bucky followed at a distance, watching as they visited various houses. He felt kind of bad, not having his house open to the kids this year, but this seemed more important.

Early in the night, the sky darkened to a beautiful orange glow that suited the atmosphere. It wasn't spooky, but playful. He was again reminded that Bucky had a sweet tooth as the man in question dug into Laura's candy, grinning around a mouthful chocolate. He looked gorgeous in the dim light, glowing under all lights, and Steve could never get enough of drinking in the sight of him.

Finally, Steve worked up the nerve to hold his hand as they walked. Bucky froze, glancing over at him with wide eyes before he hid it. Then, he squeezed Steve's hand back, gave him a little smile, and kept walking.

Steve was terrified too, but mostly he was defiant. He wasn't exactly out here, in his conservative little town. He didn't keep it a secret, but given that he hadn't dated anyone since he and Peggy had divorced, there was no reason to ever discuss his sexuality. It hadn't been intentional, but rather just something that hadn't seemed relevant.

They passed a few parents from the schools, people that Steve liked. T'Challa and Nakia had one of the biggest houses in town, and had set up an amazing display and small maze in their front yard. T'Challa nodded knowingly at the pair of them, and whilst he said nothing, his eyes were amused. Steve released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Various parents at the school passed them. All noticed his and Bucky’s hands twined together, all said nothing, but all gave him smile that told him it was okay. He was no different than the Steve he was before he met Bucky.

At the night wore on, he felt almost giddy on relief. He really had had nothing to worry about. People were far more relaxed than he gave them credit for. Bucky looked considerably more relaxed too, and leaned into him as they walked. He was so warm beside him, and Steve felt so in love that he felt like he was flying with it. It was still early days, but god, Steve knew this was love. He didn't fall often, but when he did, it was hard and fast. He'd almost proposed to Peggy within the first month, and only her cool and calm demeanour had held him back. He was glad he had.

He wouldn't ask Bucky to move in just yet .

"Thank you for coming out tonight," Bucky said as they walked, beaming at him. It was the most relaxed and calm he'd seen Bucky outside of the bedroom. He laughed, and kept picking through the candy, and Steve absently took note of the candy corn and smarties he seemed to be paying particular attention to, wanting to make sure he always had some that Bucky liked at his house. Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed the side of his head, on top of the world.

"Well, well, I guess we know why Mr. Rogers never liked coming over for dinner."

Steve sighed, good feelings disappearing. He felt Bucky stiffen under his arm as well, felt the shifting of the metal in his arm through his jacket and shirt.

"Hi Pamela. Hi ladies." Steve sounded weary to his own ears, turning around to face Pamela and probably several other moms. She was dressed as… oh god, she was dressed as an angel or something like that. A few of the other moms, the ones that nagged him constantly about coming over for dinner, were behind her, all of their lips pursed.

"Didn't know you were… like that , Steve." Carol said, voice prim. They all looked terribly unimpressed, and Steve instantly squared his shoulders and jutted his chin.

"Didn't know I was like what ?" Steve asked, trying to keep his voice even. Pick your battles, Steven, pick your battles.

A few of the women shifted uncomfortably, all exchanging glances.

Pamela laughed brightly, the sound fake. "Well, a homosexual , Steve. Is that why you and Peggy split? I did always wonder…"

Steve narrowed his eyes, already shifting for a fight. He felt Bucky squeeze his hand once, almost in warning. Steve glanced at Bucky from the corner of his eye; his expression was carefully neutral. He still radiated tension beside him though, but he said nothing.

"It's called bisexuality , Pamela," Steve managed to get out through gritted teeth. "You probably tried it in college." Steve felt a little bad for the comment, but it had slipped out. A lot of people explored their sexuality in college. He hadn't, but only because he'd already been sure of it in high school, and his mom had been accepting.

But college was a safe place for a lot of more repressed students, and to be making snide comments like that made him just as bad as these women.

Tina and Deborah gasped in unison, and Carol went to clutch at the pearls that were usually there, only to grope the air when she came up with her Evil Queen costume.

"It's just not right, Steve. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. What you do behind closed doors should stay there. I mean, think of the children. " It was Tina this time, sounding annoyed.

"Why should we be ashamed of something completely normal and natural? It's always existed in societies, and exists in countless species of animals and-," Bucky squeezed his hand a little more firmly again but he didn't stop him. Steve knew he was ranting, but he didn't care! These women annoyed the hell out of him, and had never accepted his declines, continuing to invite him over, touch his biceps through his shirt without asking, feeling his abs once or twice. Sexual harassment went both ways, damn it! Consent mattered! Steve didn't like them touching him!

"And besides," Steve continued, feeling his face getting warm with his frustration. "I do think of the children. My child doesn't understand bigotry and understands that the most important thing is that two, or three, or four, people are happy, and that gender has no part in happiness. If anyone should be thinking of the children, it's me! I'm concerned that you might be preaching hateful and close-minded attitudes to yours, and they'll grow into adults, although I hesitate to call you that, like yourselves."

"Excuse me?" Deborah’s tone was ice cold as she folded her arms and glared at the both of them.

"Steve!" Carol cried, bothered that he was no longer being his usual cordial self. He always smiled and nodded, endured them for the sake of Sarah. But Sarah was more than capable of defending herself now, as he'd seen three times this year already (Bruce was probably sick of seeing him in the office after fights she got into; Steve had developed a strong empathy with his mother now and how often she had been in the headmaster’s office for him).

Steve would endure the bullshit the moms aimed at him, but now it involved Bucky and there was no way in hell he was going to tolerate people being rude to Bucky. Not after everything else he'd been through.

Nobody said anything for a long moment, and it felt weirdly silent despite all the laughing and screeching children around them. Tension hung off each of them, so gaseous that if Steve lit a match, the air around them would burst into flames. Eventually, Steve huffed mulishly.

"Well, ladies, this has been lovely," he snarked, throwing an arm around Bucky's shoulders, "if you'll excuse us, we're going to go home and have lots of homosexual sex where we both get to come and leave the lights on!" With that, he turned them both around and stomped off down the street, catching up to where Laura and Sarah were chatting on the corner with several of their classmates.

"Steve," Bucky hissed, but not shrugging his arm off. "What the fuck?"

"I don't like bullies, whether they wear pastels or not. And I really don't like bigots." Uh oh. Was this going to turn into a fight? The anger still thrummed through him, and if he wasn't careful, he'd accidentally pick a fight with Bucky. He'd done that in the past when he was younger, before he learned to channel his rage effectively.

"And what if their kids start picking on Laura and Sarah?"

Steve stopped, pulling them off the footpath so they wouldn't block the way, and let his arm drop. They were at least out of sight of the mothers. Bucky's face was tight, but didn't look angry, more… concerned and annoyed. Steve took a few deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. He didn't want to fight with Bucky; his beef was not here.

"Look, I'm sorry if I got out of control, but Laura and Sarah can hold their own. And if it turns out the other kids start being a problem, Gracemere has a zero-tolerance policy on bullies and I have personally seen two kids get expelled after one-warning. I really don't think that'll happen. The moms don't like us , not Sarah and Laura." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Bucky looked at the ground, fidgeting. "No… It's. I come from a different world. Army was still very 'don't ask' and it wasn't really relevant. I just… I don't want the other kids to be mean to Laura for something I choose to do. Seems selfish of me."

Steve sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."

Bucky shrugged. "Nah. It's okay. We were holding hands anyway, and I knew what I was doing. They're just… I don't like 'em. Those moms. Lotta nice parents at Gracemere, like Nakia and T’Challa. But them?" He rolled his eyes and stuck his finger out behind him at the cluster of moms. "I just figure picking a fight with them isn't gonna be smart for Laura. I… When I was…" He waved offhandedly, and without saying it, Steve knew exactly where he meant. "You didn't pick fights - not about that. Not about being like us. You kept your head down, and said nothin' and hoped for the best. I sometimes forget you don't have to be like that here."

Steve exhaled, insides twisting with guilt now. He stood by what he said, but Bucky seemed so together that he sometimes forgot that there were lots of things about Bucky's past he didn't know. He could have inadvertently triggered an episode and not meant it at all, just by being confrontational with the moms.

"I'm mostly just worried about Laura. I don't have to be scared of them for me, but I am scared for Laura," Bucky said, still looking at the ground.

His stomach was now a bundle of knots. He hadn’t meant to lose it like that, hadn’t done so since his earlier years in college. He’d been a prickly kid and even pricklier teenager, but he’d learned to channel his frustrations into fighting for what was right in the courtroom. He was a staunch defender of those unable to fight for themselves and in his work, it paid off. It hadn’t occurred to him that maybe Bucky hadn’t wanted defending. Even in his mid-thirties, he still barged in without thinking of what may be the consequences of his actions. "Look," Steve said, reaching to touch Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I really should have been more thoughtful, but I promise you that if one kid says something wrong to Laura, one kid makes her feel bad about us, I will see to it that they're never allowed at another school in the entire state, okay?"

Bucky chuckled, face still lined with tension despite his small smile. "You don't have to do that. Kids are kids, and sometimes they say dumb stuff."

"You matter to me. So does Laura. I told you, I don't like bullies. If anyone bullies her, I'm not gonna take that lying down. That's not who I am,” -- he sighed -- “But… I will try to be more mindful of picking fights with parents from now on, okay?"

Bucky nodded. Steve pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, and Bucky sank into the hold. He felt laughter against his chest, felt Bucky shaking his head. "Really, ‘going to have homosexual sex,’ Steve? ‘Where we both get to come?’"

Steve laughed too, the last of the nervousness leaving him. He felt giddy with relief. "Well, it's true, isn’t it?"

A suggestive glimmer in Bucky's eyes sent a rush of heat down Steve's neck and back, resting in his stomach and his groin. He was probably going to pay for this. It was affirmed when Bucky just hummed and said "Maybe."

*

Steve did get to come that night.

Eventually.

*

Bucky was terrible at relationships. There was a reason he didn't do them. Well, okay, there had been that whole POW thing for the last few years. And before that he'd been in a war-zone, so again, not exactly conducive to relationships… But still, even before then he  hadn’t been entirely keen on them.

It wasn't that his relationship with Steve was bad. No, it was quite the opposite. It was wonderful, with lots of sweet kisses, intense fucking, the whole thing like warm honey being poured through his insides. That was a terrible metaphor, he realised, but it felt good and gooey and warm.

They loved each other. Bucky had never been in love before. Well, he'd thought he'd been in love a few times in high school, but he wasn't sure that counted. He loved Laura, and had loved his parents, and Laura's mom, but those were all very different than his love for Steve. This? This set him on fire and promised to keep him warm for the rest of his days if he let it.

And that was goddamn terrifying. Bucky had never been one to let himself be vulnerable, and had spent much of his life working as hard as possible to be anything but. It had kept him alive.

And now here he was, with… feelings for someone. It was terrifying. He was waiting to fuck it up, or for Steve to finally realise how broken he was.

Yeah, okay, so Bucky had a few abandonment issues. He was working on it, okay?

In his defence, every person he'd ever loved and cared about had disappeared, except for Laura and… god. He sometimes lay awake at night trying to stop himself loving her because if he lost her, he was certain he'd die. There was no other alternative for him. He couldn't stop loving Laura any more than he could stop breathing. But if he could stop himself loving Steve, maybe it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak that was headed his way.

Except… he didn't want to stop loving Steve. Loving Steve felt like a breath he'd been waiting his whole life to take.

Bucky was bad at this whole feelings thing.

And articulating said feelings.

He just had to stop himself from feeling anything, and it would be fine. He could do detachment. He was good with it.

He just had to be detached from Steve.

…He couldn't be detached from Steve.

Bucky was happy. He woke up every day to Laura. She loved him so much and never ceased to amaze him. He did his therapy, and had been able to reduce that a little more. They nearly had the medication cocktail right. He saw Steve at lunchtimes. He was seriously considering getting a cat, because he was lonely sometimes during the day. He took Laura and Sarah to ballet. He had dinner with all of them, and went to bed without fear of nightmares more often than not.

He was just waiting for it all to fall apart.

The anniversary of his rescue loomed. It wasn't a big deal. Really. It wasn't.

He was proud of how far he'd come. He'd held it together. And… ugh. He needed to go down to New York, because Tony wanted to "check his arm". Really, Tony wanted to celebrate, but Bucky had learned that mixing his medication with alcohol was a recipe for disaster. Tony promised mocktails instead.  

Bucky probably needed to tell Steve a little more about his past. Ugh.

But what was he meant to say? Hey Steve, I figure if we're going to keep dating, I probably ought to tell you about the most traumatic years of my life. Where do you want to start? The rape, the torture, or the loss of limbs? I'm pretty easy, you pick!

Yeah. That was going to be a fun conversation.

He rolled over, and spooned himself up behind Steve. It was a weekend, and weekends meant sleepovers at Steve's.

Steve's house was bigger, and it meant the girls could have their own rooms. They might have been friends, but there was only so much time two ten-year-olds could spend together without wanting to scratch each others eyes out. Steve's house was ridiculous, in Bucky's Brooklyn-born-and-raised opinion. He didn't know why he needed five bedrooms for just two of them, but it was working out well for overnights.

Steve pressed his back against Bucky and snuggled into his arm, sighing happily in his sleep. Bucky had been awake for an hour already, his anxiety chewing at his insides. He hadn't had nightmares, but he'd woken up convinced that he was back there. He knew he had to talk to Steve… that not talking about what happened to him was causing him more anxiety about the anniversary than the actual memories.

He knew that Steve knew he wasn't entirely put together. He'd been there when Bucky had picked up his prescriptions. He'd seen Bucky space out at awkward moments, and flinch or walk away when watching action movies. He'd brought him back from those long empty stares, and had held his hand, or curled in close in those moments when he was lost to his memories. He knew that Bucky didn't work, couldn't work. Steve knew there was a jet plane worth of baggage, and he had an idea of what that baggage might look like. But… he still didn't know . And Bucky had to tell him.

It was barely 7am, but Bucky finally found some semblance of courage in the pit of his stomach, and he needed to do it now or he'd never do it. Well, he'd probably do it eventually, but still. Strike while the iron was hot, and he felt least like vomiting at the idea.

He ran his hands up and down Steve's chest, nuzzling into his shoulder. 7am was a sleep-in for Steve anyway. Steve made a grumbling sound in his throat and rolled over, snuggling deeper into Bucky. He rubbed his face into Bucky's neck, the top of his hair tickling Bucky's face. It was nice, snuggling in, being held like this. There was ice on the windows and snow was forecast for the coming week, but the heating was on and Steve was so deliciously warm and naked. Bucky was naked. It had taken a lot of getting used to, sleeping naked. He'd spent so long suspended in hypervigilance, and learning to sleep naked had been a weird task he'd assigned himself. He'd succeeded, and never wanted to do otherwise again.

"Hey," Bucky said, voice rough from sleep and things getting caught in his throat over and over the night before.

Steve grumbled and rubbed his face more insistently against Bucky's neck, curling a leg around Bucky's. He was hard, grinding sleepily against Bucky's thigh. Damn it. Maybe Bucky needed to- No! No! He wouldn't get distracted.

"Hey," Bucky said, easing away a little, and putting an arm behind his head. "Can you wake up a little? I gotta talk to you."

Steve stopped his insistent cuddling, freezing. "Uh oh. That doesn't sound good." His voice was so deep in the morning, and it normally did things to Bucky's insides. Good things.

Bucky grimaced.

His silence made Steve sit up, expression deeply concerned. "Buck? Is everything okay?"

Bucky nodded. "We gotta talk."

"Worst three words in the universe," Steve muttered, looking miserable and very awake.

Bucky blanched. "Wait, no! No! Not those three words. We gotta talk about something else. But… No. I didn't mean that." God, the idea of breaking up with Steve was so ridiculous. You had to pry Steve out of his cold, dead hands. If Steve wanted it to end, he'd fight it, but if he really wanted it, yeah, he'd walk away. But until that time… No. He wasn't going to leave Steve.

Steve exhaled, putting a hand on his bare chest. "Jeez, Bucky. Don't scare a guy like that." Bucky pulled him back into a hug, wanting to soothe away the panic. "What's so important you woke me up early on a Saturday and sounding like you were breaking up with me?"

"I'm ready to tell you… about everything."

Steve froze, pulling away just enough that he could see Bucky's face clearly.

The story was just as hard to tell as he was expecting. He didn't really know where to begin, so he started by telling him about his family, about foster care and joining the army as soon as he was old enough. Tours, and the horrors there. He told him about the capture, his years locked away, the things he’d experienced at the hands of his captors. He wanted to skate over certain issues but he knew… He knew he needed to at least touch on certain things. Things that… Things that impacted his relationship with Steve, why he struggled to let Steve take control in the bedroom or even let Steve top him. He talked about the rescue, the things that had gone wrong there. Tony’s fury, guilt, and the many ways he tried to make reparations for things he hadn’t committed.  

His voice sounded empty to his own ears, and he became numb as he talked. Numb was good. Numb was better than breaking down into tears, or dissociating, or having a panic attack. It was nicer, telling the story like it was someone else's life.

Bucky had expected Steve to cry; he hadn't expected anger. Which, when he thought about it, was kind of foolish, because Steve might seem like he was pretty relaxed, but he had a temper when it mattered. And this certainly mattered.

When Bucky was done, Steve's cheeks were flushed, his eyes sharp, and he was positively vibrating with pent-up fury. He found himself yanked into Steve's arms, slightly winded with the force of it. Steve was shaking. To his surprise, the hand that became buried in his hair was gentle, even if it trembled with withheld rage.

"I swear to God, if I ever find them…" Steve said after a long silence, mouth pressed to the top of Bucky's head.

Bucky gave an empty laugh; he was still deliriously numb. "Unfortunately for you, Stark blew most of the bad ones apart. But it looked painful, if that helps." He recalled those particular memories with a wince; Tony had been pretty angry too, but Tony had a suit that shot lasers and shit.

Steve would probably try to beat them all to death, and frankly, Bucky wouldn't stop him.

"It does." Steve muttered, voice muffled by Bucky’s  hair. His arms tightened around Bucky, so tight that his bones creaked and something in his spine popped nicely. He let himself be hugged, inwardly congratulating himself for finally speaking to Steve about this.

It was okay. He was safe. This place was safe. Steve was safe. Nothing bad was going to happen.

He was safe.

Chapter Text

"Papa! Papa! Look at me!" Laura finished doing yet another pirouette, and wobbled off her pointes, catching herself at the last minute on the edge of the counter. She giggled and swayed. "Oops, I'm a little dizzy," she admitted.

Bucky looked up from where he was rolling dough out on Steve's kitchen counter and grinned at her. "Maybe you need to try the other way, to balance it out," he suggested, holding a small ball of cookie dough out to her. She popped it in her mouth, beaming back.

They were in Steve's kitchen, school holidays having started the night before. Two and a half weeks with no school, so they'd made the decision to have Bucky and Laura spend the next two weeks there.

It was all too easy, really. He and Steve had finally sat the girls down earlier that month to discuss things with them only to discover that the girls had the internet and curious minds, and they very quickly had to set up better parental protections on things. From what they said, they hadn’t discovered anything particularly graphic, but he and Steve were taking no chances. If they had any questions, they could ask them, and not this “reddit” thing they’d found. Bucky shook his head, ridding himself of the memories of the awkwardness of that conversation. Besides, the point was that it had gone entirely fine, Laura saying it didn’t matter if they were two daddies, as long as they were happy. Sarah had said the word "gay" a lot, trying to get a rise out of Steve until he bristled and explained bisexuality to her. She'd stopped saying it then. Laura had quietly asked Bucky when they were alone if that meant he’d be staying longer now, and Bucky, heart cracking, had promised her he wasn’t going anywhere if he could help it. She’d slept in his bed that night, something that she did rarely but Bucky always allowed.

Laura had been particularly happy about spending Christmas at Steve’s house. She liked the big bathtub at Steve’s, putting cucumber on her eyes when she had a bubble bath, and asking Bucky to bring her lemonade. Sarah was, as always, Sarah. Prickly, yet loving, a hedgehog that hid a sensitive middle. She liked Bucky though, something which relieved everyone. It might have had something to do with the hot chocolates he made, but he wasn’t sure. A quieter voice told him it was actually because he was around more, but Bucky tried not to think about that.

Having the holidays at Steve’s really wasn't all that different to how they were doing things anyway. They were in Steve's house more evenings than at Bucky's apartment, and had dinner together more often than not. Steve's house was bigger and had an enormous kitchen. Laura was able to have her own room, and the master bedroom wasn't near the girls rooms. It promised to be a wonderful few weeks.

He glanced at the window and the snow piled up against the window; it been sifting down gently all day. It was dark outside now and Steve was due home any moment. He had a few days off over Christmas, but he was still working that day.

Laura started doing more of her turns; they weren't pirouettes, Bucky knew that much, but he couldn't remember what they were called. The ballet academy was putting on The Nutcracker tomorrow night, and she was excitedly practicing for the minor part she had. Sarah was only in the chorus, but she didn't seem to mind, her interest in ballet waning.

Bucky couldn't have been prouder, and had to wrest with himself not to tell her that every five minutes.

He'd stopped caring about Christmas a long time ago, but this was his first Christmas with Laura since she was two, and he was determined to make it special. Special meant… definitely going overboard with the presents, and the food, and the decorations, and the carols. As it was, he was currently fumbling his way through a gingerbread house. It didn't look too bad, actually, and the gingerbread tasted amazing.

He wasn't sure if he was going overboard for Laura, or himself. Last Christmas he'd been… well, he'd been in hospital still, probably recovering from surgery, or at the very least heavily sedated. It was all a mish-mash of memories, blurry images, and a lot of pain, physical and emotional. He hadn't celebrated Christmas since he was sixteen, really, and his therapist had told him he was allowed to make new, positive memories. There had been that one when Laura was two and he was briefly home from a tour, but aside from seeing her that day he’d gone back to his undecorated room on base, gotten drunk and fallen asleep by 6pm. That probably didn’t count as celebrating Christmas.

As a result, he was trying to make up for lost time now. Luckily, Steve and Laura seemed happy to indulge him on it. Steve had ranted about the commercialism of Christmas, but once he'd realised what this meant to Bucky, had kept his trap shut. Laura was just as enthused about Christmas as well, luckily. Her past few Christmases had been in foster care.

Yes. He was being a little overzealous with trying to force a good holiday, but he decidedly did not care .

There was the quiet rattle and buzz of the garage door opening and he perked up, like a dog hearing their owner coming home. It took surprising effort to stop himself from skipping to the door to greet Steve the moment he went in. In his mind, he was pacing restlessly, but outside he continued making little cut outs in the gingerbread. Be cool, Barnes… It was just his boyfriend… Coming home… It hadn't even been ten hours since he'd seen him last… He was cool. He was chill.

“Steve’s home!” Laura crowed at him, as if he hadn’t being listening out for it like an impatient puppy for the last hour. She made kissy faces and nearly stumbled out of her spin, giggling.

"Oh my god, this place smells amazing," Steve said as soon as he was inside, the roller door buzzing behind him before he closed the door. He looked around with wide eyes. "Annnd it looks like a Macy's threw up in here," he commented, expression bewildered.

"Hi Steve!" Laura cried breathlessly, still spinning. "We decorated today! Do you like it?"

"I can see that. It sure is something," Steve chuckled, hanging his coat on the hooks by the door and leaving his briefcase and boots under it. He walked into the kitchen in his socks, sidling up to Bucky and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. Cool fingers eased his ponytail out of the way, and only slightly warmer lips were pressed to his neck.

"Hey," Steve said, voice warm beside his ear. Bucky smiled to himself, but finished placing the gingerbread man on the tray before he turned slightly and kissed Steve back.

"Hey," he grinned, feeling like a giddy teenager. Ten hours, Barnes. Ten hours. He wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing (thankfully, not a ridiculous one, but a plain dark blue - he wasn't about to get flour all over his clothes!) and gave Steve a brief hug and another kiss, this one just a touch longer.

"Ewww," Laura protested, despite her making kissing faces at him less than a minute ago. "Whyyyy?

Bucky ducked his head, still smiling. He hadn't even used tongue! Steve laughed, hand still on Bucky's waist, where he squeezed for a moment before letting go and putting space between them.

"Seriously, it smells so good," Steve said, walking over to the stove and investigating what was cooking. "Oh my god, I love you," he exhaled as he saw beef stroganoff simmering away. "And gingerbread. Do I get to eat any of that tonight, or will you glower at me and make me sleep on the couch if I do?"

Bucky shook his head, laughing, a few pieces of hair falling across his face as he did. "I've never made you sleep on the couch," he protested as he eased the tray into the oven.

"I've never stolen cookies without your permission," Steve countered.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I've made more than enough," he informed him.

Steve went to say hi to Sarah, who was watching something in her bedroom. When he returned in sweatpants and a sweater that made Bucky want to bury his face in his chest, he made them camomile tea before sitting on the counter.

"Seriously, so many decorations," he muttered, wincing at the twinkling lights.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at him as he leaned on the opposite counter; he had fourteen minutes before he had to do anything else and the breather was definitely needed. "You helped buy the decorations, Steven," Bucky huffed, feigning fond annoyance.

"Ooh, Steven. I am in trouble," he sassed, grinning as he bit his lower lip.

"You could be…" Bucky surveyed the living room and kitchen; it seemed Laura had disappeared, probably up to her room or something. He crossed the small distance between them quickly, sliding between Steve's legs, fingers going up to bury themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, and tugging. Steve's mouth fell open in a soundless moan, and his eyes fluttered closed.

"I'm okay with this…" Steve breathed, voice hoarse suddenly.

Bucky pulled him in for a teasing kiss, that quickly became heated, fingers tight in Steve's hair all the while. He controlled the kiss, turning Steve very quickly into a quietly restless mess. Bucky kept half an ear out for hearing either of the girls approaching but fuck him, it was hard not to get distracted.

They both jumped when the timer on the oven went off, panting and hard. Bucky quickly withdrew from Steve to check the gingerbread, earning him a sad little whine that sent shivers of delight down his spine. Steve continued to sit on the counter and watch him, legs spread, sweatpants a little tented and eyes glazed. Eventually, he shook himself out while Bucky smirked.

"That wasn't fair," Steve rasped, pouting.

Bucky grinned into the oven; the gingerbread looking perfect.

"I never said I played fair…"

Steve shifted uncomfortably, closing his legs a little and visibly willing his erection away. It was none too soon either, as Laura danced into a room a few minutes later, closely followed by slower Sarah.

"I heard the oven. Are there cookies?" Laura asked, bouncing around. Bucky was beginning to regret letting her eat so many of his cast-off cookies… She wasn't going to sleep tonight. But that didn't stop him pointing to the cooling cookies to the side. They weren't decorated yet, but he had a few that were less than perfect that he'd left for them all to eat.

The girls stayed up late, later than Bucky wanted given his plans for the evening, but he figured it was okay. Holidays and all. Steve had some work to do, but he sat with his legs across Bucky's lap as he typed, so Bucky could forgive him. It was a small price to pay in order to have Steve home for a few days.

Eventually, he told the girls it was bedtime, that they needed a good night’s sleep for their performance tomorrow. With grumbles, and yawns, they eventually went off. He tucked Laura in, talking to her about the holidays, and the workshop they were doing at the ballet school in the break, and how she wondered if he thought she could be a famous dancer one day. He didn't mind sitting there and talking to her; in a few years, she'd resent him and slam her door a lot, and he wanted every nice moment he could take. But slowly, yawns overtook her and she trailed off mid-sentence and fell asleep.

Steve was still tapping away at his laptop, the lighting in the living room low. Bucky frowned, holding back a comment about how bad it was for his eyes. Instead, he crossed the room and hovered his right hand over the top of the MacBook.

"Just how important is this?" He asked, indicating whatever Steve was working on.

"Um, vaguely?" Steve said, looking up at him with big, rapidly blinking eyes.

"Need to be done by tomorrow?"

Steve shook his head.

"Then save it," Bucky instructed, voice going a little deeper.

Steve's eyes widened, and Bucky was staring at him so intently that he saw his pupils dilate. Steve quickly saved what he was doing, and shut the computer so quickly that Bucky might have winced under normal circumstances. He grabbed Steve's hand, leading him to the main bedroom, shutting off all the lights as he went. The Christmas lights continued to twinkle, but otherwise the house became dark and shadowy. As he passed the girls bedrooms he checked that once again they were fast asleep. They were and he eased the doors all but an inch shut.

In Steve's room, he locked the door quietly. He'd turned a single lamp on before returning to grab Steve, and had adjusted the heating preemptively.

"Buck?" Steve asked quietly, still holding his hand. They hadn't even kissed, but there was definite action happening in the front of his sweatpants.

Bucky gave him a little smile, tugging him in for a short and sweet kiss, before pulling away. "Strip."

He moved over to the bed, opening the bottom drawer on the side of the bed that was quickly becoming "his". Behind him, he heard Steve undress quickly, and his smile widened. Excited much?  He pulled the paper wrapping out of the drawer, and several pieces of leather, their metal attachments clinking against each other. He lay each piece neatly on the wooden nightstand, pressing them flat.

"So, we talked about this a few times…" Bucky lead with, trying not to let any hint of nervousness show. "You still keen?"

Steve looked at the leather, and nodded enthusiastically, crossing the room to be closer to Bucky. Bucky kissed him again, just once, before nodding and picking one of the cuffs up. He tightened it around Steve's large wrist, checking that it wasn't too constricting, before doing the other. He left the collar, gag and blindfold on the table; this was enough for now.

"You wanna come out, just say so, okay?" Bucky said, shoving him onto the bed. Steve nodded, chuckling as he bounced slightly on the bed, and bit back a moan as Bucky covered his body quickly with his own. Pinning him down, Bucky reached between the headboard and mattress for some more leather straps he'd placed there earlier, and clipped Steve's cuffs to them. Steve absently tested the give, biting his lip at how little there was.

"Still okay?" Bucky knew he was being overcautious, but he had his own traumas there to deal with. But Steve? Steve loved being held down by Bucky, and it had been his suggestion that Bucky use his belt one day to tie his hands together. That had started a whole range of dirty talk, filthy whispers of Bucky tying him down and having his way with him, and gagging him, and making him come so hard that he couldn't see straight.

There had been a few incidents that had pushed too far on the idea of non-consent, and even choking, and yeah, okay, Bucky had maybe had a panic attack or three… But Steve had been understanding and they'd kind of left it at that.

Steve nodded, biting his lower lip again and looking up at Bucky through those ridiculous eyelashes of his. He was hard against his stomach, little dribbles of pre-cum across his abs. They were starting to get a little less defined, given that Steve spent more time getting fucked by Bucky than working out, but Bucky liked it. He wouldn't describe it as flabby, and they were still there. They were just… softer.

He swooped down to kiss Steve, before pulling his cock out of his sweatpants. He swung a leg over so he was sitting on Steve's chest, and jerked himself a few times, getting himself a little harder, before pressing it forward into Steve's open and waiting mouth. He fed it in slowly, inch by inch, making Steve whine impatiently.

"Greedy," Bucky commented, more focussed on Steve's gorgeous expression than the sensation around his cock. God, he always looked so good, so eager, and his tongue was doing very distracting things to him. He hit the back of Steve's throat, and Steve's happy sound sent shivers up his spine, the vibrations on his cock making his eyelids flutter.

He stayed where he was for a moment, pulling back slightly to let Steve have a few breaths, before pushing in again. He worked his way up to fucking Steve's face, making Steve whine and whimper and drool over his chin. The angle wasn't the best (he definitely needed to get Steve's head over the edge of the bed for that), but it felt like such a delicious power move to be pinning Steve's chest, burying his fingers in his hair and holding him down, making him take everything Bucky gave him.

They did this every so often, but somehow the handcuffs gave it an extra touch that made Bucky's toes curl. That Steve let him do this… That Steve trusted him… It was a bigger rush than any blowjob.

Still, he had to be careful. Steve wasn't able to tap his thigh like he usually did when he had too much, so instead of losing himself in the sensations he watched Steve's face carefully. This wasn't really about his pleasure anyway. Well, not entirely.

When he pulled away, just the tip resting on Steve's lower lip, he stared. Steve was gorgeous, lips red and swollen, eyes glazed and watery, expression somewhere else and delighted.

"You okay there, bud?" Bucky asked, brushing the hair that had fallen across his forehead away gently.

Steve nodded enthusiastically, sound a little garbled but definitely in the affirmative. Bucky grinned and pushed back in, the sounds of delight muffled quickly with his cock. He kept at it for a little longer, allowing himself a few brief moments of pleasure each time when it seemed Steve was still definitely enjoying this and Bucky wasn't even close to reaching his limit. Tonight wasn't about finding the limit and pushing them; tonight was just a fun experiment, and some hopefully really hot sex. Steve's hips kept shifting, his cock desperately searching for any stimulation; Bucky didn't give it to him, grinning to himself.

Eventually, he pulled away and eased himself off Steve's chest, moving down his body and bringing him in close. He kissed Steve softly, almost languidly, a break from the hectic and intense pace he'd set just a minute before. Steve made a soft little sound of pleasure into Bucky's mouth, kissing back.

"Still okay?" Bucky breathed, cupping his cheek and stroking a thumb across his cheekbone. Steve nodded, sucking Bucky's lower lip into his mouth.

"Mmm, so good," Steve confirmed.

"Ready for more?" Bucky grinned, reaching across the bed to grab some lube from Steve's bedside. He should have put a towel down, he realised as he poured the lube onto his fingers. They didn't always bother with large amounts of lube and prep these days; they were fucking so regularly that some days, Steve only needed a bit of spit and a cursory prep. But tonight… Tonight was different. He wasn't aiming for a quick fuck on Steve's lunch break.

Bucky was planning to wreck him.

Steve eyed his hand warily, mostly back from the happy floating space in his head, biting his lip.

"Uh oh," Steve grinned, seeming to realise what was coming.

"'Uh oh' would be correct," Bucky confirmed with a smirk, and pushing a finger in.

By the time he was up to four fingers, Steve was a panting, writhing mess, desperate sobs coming from his mouth. His skin glistened with sweat, and every muscle in his body was taut as Bucky frigged and stretched him.

"Bucky, Bucky, oh my god, oh my god, please please please," Steve begged breathlessly, squirming uselessly against the cuffs and trying to bury his face in his upper arms.

"If you can't be quiet," Bucky threatened, voice low, "I'll have to gag you…"

"Oh my god, oh my god," Steve continued, trying to push harder on Bucky's fingers, desperately seeking more friction.

Bucky grinned. "Guess I ought to gag you then…"

Steve nodded, panting hard as he withdrew his fingers and reached for the black ballgag. It was hard to get it on and do it up with one hand, particularly his metal one given the lack of sensation, but he managed. When he sat back on his heels, he said "You want a break, or to stop, just shake your head and make 'uh uh' sounds, okay? I'll ask if you want a break, or to stop then okay? Don't hold out on me; if anything is wrong I gotta know."

Steve looked at him like he hung the goddamn moon, and that… did things to his insides. Those dark blue eyes stared up at him, and he grinned around the gag, nodding. Bucky had to shake himself free of the gaze, lest he ruin the moment by professing just how goddamn much he loved Steve.

Instead, he made Steve very grateful for the gag, fingers slipping back inside, and continued his intense ministrations. Steve moaned around the ballgag, the sound barely muffled. But the actual dampening of sound wasn't the point, so much as making Steve wear a gag. And by god, he looked so good in it.

Steve was a glassy-eyed, mumbling wreck, begging Bucky around the gag when Bucky gave in and gave him what he wanted. He brought Steve's ankles over his shoulders, slid inside him in one hard movement, making Steve's back arch and him moan with such desperation that it sent thrills through Bucky's spine.

Bucky tugged at Steve's fringe as he fucked him, biting his jawline and neck, bending Steve in half, and struggling to maintain what little sense of composure he had left. Steve's muffled moans beside his ear were like crack to him, so good, made him ache for more.

He barely made out the words Steve was moaning to him, him warning that he was close; in return, he increased his efforts, bringing a hand between them. He was achingly close too, had been barely holding on by a thread. It was a miracle that he hadn't come yet, even more of one that Steve hadn't given all the teasing he'd endured over the last however long. Steve's body clenched around him, making him shake and his back arch again. His breathing came in dry sobs, every part of him trembling. Bucky bit the juncture between Steve's neck and shoulder as he finally came himself, Steve whining and gasping.

"Sorry," Bucky breathed as he pulled his mouth away, wincing as he saw the sharp indents he'd made in Steve's skin. He hadn't drawn blood, but it had to have hurt, even with Steve's mild kink for pain.

Steve spat out the ballgag, still struggling to regain his breath. "S'ok. Worth it," he mumbled.

Bucky hovered over him for a moment, bringing a hand to his cheek before kissing him softly. Finally, he withdrew, pulling out with a wince. Steve's nose wrinkled as he did.

"Still feels weird to have you come in me."

Bucky grinned, breathing still laboured. They'd made the switch from condoms earlier that month, and it was… yeah, it was still pretty amazing. Bucky hadn't made a habit of not using condoms, with a rare exception that resulted in a child, so this was nice. It was nice that they were at that point in the relationship, that they trusted each other so much.

He climbed up the bed a little, unhooking Steve's hands from above his head, and rubbing his wrists as he did. Steve gave a tiny wince but smiled.

"Best Christmas present ever," Steve told him and kissed him as he sat up.

"Not your Christmas present, but duly noted," Bucky teased, squeezing Steve's ass as he got off the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. Bucky tidied up the bed, and himself, in Steve's absence, sliding under the covers while he waited. When Steve came back, he had a little grin on his face, practically glowing. He climbed in beside Bucky, tucking himself under his arm.

"Still okay?" Bucky checked, nuzzling at his damp temple before kissing it. He'd taken a quick rinse in the shower, and smelled clean.

"So good," Steve confirmed, yawning. "Better than the fantasies."

Bucky grinned wickedly. "You fantasise about me?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Obviously. But… no… no more sex tonight. Please."

Bucky chuckled and rolled over to flick the lamp off. "If you insist…"

*

Steve hated January. That was an overstatement, admittedly, but January did tend to suck. He didn't know what it was about the new year that inspired people to hire a lawyer, but he hated it. Something about it being a new year, and them wanting to sort their shit out. He didn't really understand why you couldn't sort your shit out any other day of the year…

Normally he wouldn't have minded that much. He enjoyed being busy, enjoyed helping people where he could. When he'd been younger, he'd craved the busy months. But then Peggy and he had had Sarah, and he'd wanted to spend every spare second with her… Once she'd started school, that same desire for crazy busy had returned. But it had bitten him in the ass, overwhelming him at times and more often than not meaning he didn’t get to see Sarah as often as he’d have liked.

And now? Now he had someone he wanted to spend spare moments with. He wanted to finish work at a decent hour and have dinner with Bucky, and Sarah, and Laura. He wanted to go back to seeing Bucky on his lunch breaks. He didn't even care about the lack of sex (much), so much as he missed Bucky like hell, and those had been some of his favourite in the day. He could tell Bucky wasn't thrilled with it either, but that didn't really soothe him.If anything, it just made him feel more guilty.

It was nearly 10pm and he was only now leaving work to get Sarah from Bucky's. He was exhausted, and despite the Chinese food he'd eaten earlier, he was fucking hungry. Bucky had offered to bring him dinner, but Steve had declined. No point dragging them out when it was so bitterly cold, and the girls had homework to do.

He let himself into Bucky's apartment yawning. The end wasn't even in sight, and he was dreading it.

Bucky was still up, reading under the lamp, the only light on in the living space other than the stovetop light. He put the book down instantly, smiling sleepily at Steve. He had probably taken his sleeping pills already, but had waited up for Steve.

"Dinner's in the oven if you want it," Bucky told him quietly as he padded across the room to wrap his arms around him. Bucky smelled so good; Steve buried his face in Bucky's shoulder, inhaling everything about him.

"Mmm," Steve hummed, tempted to fall asleep on his shoulder.

"And Sarah's asleep in my room. Figured it'd be better not to wake Laura up as well." His words were on the side of slurring, barely noticeable unless Steve looked for it.

"Good thinking…" Steve sighed. "This would be so much easier if you lived with me."

Bucky chuckled. "I was thinking the same… But it's probably too early for that."

Steve hummed again, just leeching Bucky's warmth and strength.

"My lease ends in June. We can talk about it closer to then?" Bucky offered.

"Mmmmaybe," Steve sighed. "I just want to fall asleep."

"I wish you could," Bucky chuckled, running his hands up and down his back. "How about Laura and I spend the rest of the week at your place? Will be nicer for Sarah too, to be in her own home. I can cook too."

"That sounds great. So great. Is it wrong that I'm weirdly turned on by the idea of coming home to you cooking for me?"

Bucky pulled back from the overly long hug and raised his eyebrows. "Do you want me to wear a cute little apron too? Bring you a drink and give you a blowjob while I'm at it?"

Steve groaned. "Look, I wouldn't say no, alright. That sounds amazing." Steve huffed, gasping as Bucky pinched him gently. His expression turned serious, and he grabbed Bucky's wrist, meeting his eyes fiercely. "But I'd never ask you to do it. You know that, right?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, yes, I know. I was just teasing you."

Steve kissed him. "Good. So. My place for the rest of the week?"

Bucky nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

*

Things were good. Getting better every day. The weather was heating up, which was nice because Bucky's shoulder hurt a bit when it was particularly cold. The sky was bluer, and it was finally starting to be more pleasant on his runs outside. Even though they weren't officially living together, he and Laura spent more time at Steve and Sarah's than they did in their own apartment. Bucky's things had started to migrate over, as had Laura's. The nights alone were few and far between.

He wasn't sure they'd make it to June before calling the move official. It wasn't like he had furniture, had rented the apartment fully furnished, down to the cutlery and linen. But still, despite how quickly things were moving, he kept telling himself he didn't want things to move too quickly.

Bucky was usually good at keeping a hold of his emotions. Sometimes he bordered on too good, and tended to dissociate, but for the most part he kept that under control and hadn't let it impact Laura too much. That wasn't to say every day was good. Some days… some days were horribly hard.

And being so close to Steve made them harder.

There were some days when getting out of bed was so hard, and he wanted to curl up and cry silently into his pillow until it was time to get Laura up. He couldn't do that when Steve was beside him. He knew Steve (probably) wouldn't mind, but it felt too vulnerable still. Steve knew but Bucky had been doing a really good job at pretending to have his shit together. Sure, he was sometimes bothered by movies, and dripping sounds, and darkness and dampness… But that was… kind of normal. The wanting to lie in bed and cry didn't feel normal. He loved Steve, and feared that if Steve had the impression he was more of a wreck than he let on, maybe he wouldn't want to stay.

Yeah, okay, Bucky had an abandonment issue or twelve. In his defence, he'd lost his parents and sister in one fell swoop, lost most of his friends through their tours, and lost one of his few non-military friends on top if. He hadn't had a great run. But he was working on it, okay? He hadn't run at the concept of a relationship, had instead let it rush over him like a huge wave.

But Bucky had woken up having one of Those Days. He felt edgy, and everything felt wrong. His clothing felt bad on his skin, and his hair wasn't right. There was that sense of impending doom, but he couldn't quite put his finger on the direction said doom would come from. Steve hadn't been in bed when he'd woken, which didn't help with the wakeup either. He'd kissed Bucky as he'd left, making him wake up just enough to accept the kiss and a quick cuddle, and when he'd woken properly, the bed had been cold. Work was slowing down for Steve, for the most part, but he had a conference call with Australia or something stupid and inconvenient. The point was, the bed was cold, and that was never a good start to the day.

He'd never actually stayed in bed and cried, even on the days he really wanted to. He had even more motivation not to now. He had to hold it together. Maybe he could spend the night at his own place. It had been a week since he and Laura had been at the apartment… Maybe Steve could watch Laura… Let him have his breakdown in peace. He could probably think of a decent excuse. He'd think of a decent excuse.

After he took the girls to school.

He had to take the girls to school.

He had to get out of bed.

He. He had to get out of bed.

Okay. He could do this.

He could.

He managed to get out of bed. He could shower later.

He had to take the girls to school.

He was out of bed.

He did it. It made it out of bed.

… Fuck, he really missed Steve. He didn't have to tell Steve what was wrong. He just needed a hug. He just wanted to see that smile, feel those arms around him. It was grounding, made me feel happy just to think about.

He managed to get the girls up, cook them breakfast, make himself a coffee, take his medication. He felt a little like he was on autopilot. It wasn't dissociation, but it was borderline, and he had a feeling that once he was home he'd slip into it. The girls seemed to sense something was wrong, and were quieter.

"Did you and my dad have a fight?" Sarah asked from the backseat as he drove them to school.

Bucky glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was frowning, lips pursed, looking so much like her dad in that moment.

"No?" He offered, not sure why she had that impression.

"Then why are you sad? You're not leaving are you?"

He heard Laura give a sharp little inhale. She was staring at him intently, eyes wide.

"No, I'm not going anywhere other than the grocery store." He chuckled, but it felt forced to his own ears. "I'm just tired," he lied.

"Oh. Okay." Sarah’s tone was dismissive but her little face remained troubled.

Laura still looked troubled when he pulled into the parking lot.

"You go ahead, I'll catch up," Laura said quietly to Sarah when they got out. Sarah looked between Bucky and her with narrowed eyes before crossing the road and hovering at the footpath there.

"You're not going, are you, Papa?" Laura asked him, eyes desperate as she looked up at him.

Bucky's insides tightened. "No, what…? No. I'm not going anywhere."

"Mama got weird before she left. You're being weird. Please don't go, Papa. Please. I'll be good," she explained quickly, voice tight and trembling. She sounded on the verge of tears. Bucky didn't even bother fighting his urge to pull her into his arms, just knelt quickly and hugged her so tightly that she squeaked a little, but then clung back. He felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes, but he managed to keep them down.

He wouldn't cry. Laura couldn't see him cry.

She was scared. She was scared he was going to leave him. She was scared… that what happened to her mother would happen to him. Bucky wasn't suicidal. He was just tired. But god, that she feared that he'd end up like her mother… He tightened his hold on her, as if that might allay her fears.

"I'm never going to leave you again," he breathed, running a hand over the back of her head, instantly regretting it. He'd split it into two, braided it nicely that morning, and now it was going to be frizzy. Fuck it, he didn't care, stroking it again.

"Promise?" She asked in a choked whisper, voice tiny even against his neck.

"Promise. I can't promise you a lot of things, but I'm never gonna leave you, okay?" Part of him thought it was a stupid promise to make. He could drive out and get hit by a truck. He could have been kept in a cell near nuclear waste and had cancer and he just didn’t know it yet. But he was never going to willingly leave her, ever. And he wasn't going to argue semantics, not when he was trying to calm her down.

Laura clung to him for a little while longer, and he let her. He was tempted to ask if she wanted the day off school… Maybe they needed to spend some time together? But he was so tired… He was so tired, and… No, Laura’s needs always had to come before his. He wouldn’t have it otherwise.

"Do you need the day off school? I can tell them you started to feel sick so I had to take you home." Laura was more important than his need for a private breakdown. He could put that off until tomorrow.

Laura withdrew a little, her hands still on his shoulders. She shook her head, braids swinging and almost hitting him in the face. She giggled wetly, wiping her eyes and nose on her school sweater. "Oops, sorry Papa," she said as she sniffed. "I'm okay. I just… Please don't leave."

"Never," he reaffirmed, not having to fake the smile on his face. Never ever. He stood up slowly. "Okay, well, if you're sure, you better go. The bell's going to ring any minute and Sarah's still waiting for you. And if you change your mind, just tell the nurse you have a headache and I’ll be here." Laura nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist in one more hug before she checked for cars and crossed the road again.

"Well, well," a cloying voice said from a car over. "Wasn't that touching."

It was Carol. Fucking Carol . She was one of the worst of the Mom's at the school, and probably had the second biggest (or, at least, second most obvious crush) on Steve, second only to Deborah. They all seemed to dislike him before it became obvious that he and Steve were involved. He saw the looks, the way they whispered when he was around. They stared at him a lot at ballet in particular, unabashed of their obvious distaste for him.

He wasn't like everyone else around here. He knew that. He drove a sports car to their fancy family cars. He almost exclusively wore shades of black, and boots, and they existed purely in pastels. There was the long hair too. He knew that bothered them too, for some absurd reason. Bucky had had his head shaved for the last six years, and growing it out had been a delightful fuck you to those memories.

For the most part, Bucky didn't give a fuck what the other parents thought. As long as they, and their children, weren't horrible to Laura, they could think whatever the fuck they wanted about him.  

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Hi Carol," he said, voice flat. He probably didn't help things by not being nice back. Steve played their game for the most part, had even been friendly since Halloween.

"You know," Carol said, perfectly lined eyes widening in excessive false empathy. "She's probably just upset because she doesn't have a Mama. Kids need a Mom and a Dad, you know? There's science about it and everything. I read about it in Readers Digest once. Big article. Very informative."

Bucky gritted his teeth and gave her a mirthless smile. "I doubt that's it, but thank you for your concern, really."

"Maybe California would suit you both better. It's much more suited for people of…" she ran her eyes up and down his body, judging, "your kind…"

Bucky didn't bother to suppress his eye roll and unlocked his car. "I appreciate the thought, Carol. I'll bear that in mind."

"She just doesn't fit in around here. It's not fair on Steve and Sarah, you using him for his money like that, ruining their good name. Sarah had a lot of friends before she met Laura. Things were better for them before you came." She gave a huge grin. "I'm not saying this to be mean. I'm just trying to help, you know?" She twirled a blonde lock around her french-tipped fingers, batting her lashes at him.

He had to force some air into his lungs. He groped for rationality, surprised at how the words affected him. Maybe on one of his good days he wouldn't have minded, would have rolled his eyes and laughed it off with Steve later. But today? Not so much. Is… is that what they thought? That he was using Steve for his money? Bucky had more than enough money… Between Laura's mom's life insurance, his own parents life insurance, and a significant compensation packet from both the government (which he really only had thanks to Stark's excellent legal team) and Stark Industries… Bucky had enough money to never have to work a day in his life.

But they didn't know that. He wasn't sure Steve knew that much either… Steve knew he was okay, but Steve did have a tendency to pay for everything… Did Steve think he needed the money? Was… Was he ruining things for Steve and Sarah by being here? Would he and Laura be better off elsewhere?

Bucky realised he'd been staring at the hood of Carol's Range Rover for an awkwardly long time, and she shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Carol," he muttered, getting in his car, slamming the door and rearing out of the parking lot. He went straight back to his apartment, heart racing. He supposed it was good that he wasn't on the verge of dissociating anymore. But honestly, he would have preferred that right then.

Once inside his apartment, he started cleaning the kitchen obsessively, even though it hadn't been used all week. He put fresh linens on the bed, even though they didn't need those either. He felt almost manic with the way he tidied, just trying to give himself something to do.

He just had to distract himself. Just had to distract himself.

He'd cleaned the sink three times now.

Oh, he'd missed a spot.

He had to do it again.

He had to clean the sink again.

What if the sink was dirty, and Laura got sick and she died, and he could have prevented it by just keeping the house clean?

No, no, he was being irrational. He was being irrational. He knew he was being irrational.

He forced himself to sit down, even though he felt like jumping out of his skin. He just had to breathe. Realign himself.

He liked living here. It was nice. The school was great, and Laura loved it. The teachers adored her, and she was getting the stimulation she needed. She loved her ballet school and Natasha. She'd lost so much, and he wasn't going to remove her from a place she was happy. He wasn't going to take away more familiarity. She didn't deserve that, just because the mom's thought he didn't fit in.

Laura deserved to stay there.

He fired off a text message to Steve, asking if he wanted lunch today. He heard back quickly, regret heavy in his message saying that he was flat out all day and probably would be late for dinner.

Bucky stared around the empty, silent apartment, kind of lost.

Maybe he just needed to get a job.

He was doing better, right? Today was bad, but he was better, kind of. He still couldn't go to the supermarket when it was busy, and loud things made him crawl under tables into a ball. He didn't need to work, but maybe if he had a job the people around town wouldn't think he was just using Steve for his money. Maybe Steve would feel better for it too.

Bucky was alone a lot during the day, and most of the time he liked it, but maybe he'd become a little too dependent on Steve for his adult-human contact. He didn't really want a job, but maybe it would be better if he had one. It would solve a few problems, right?

Okay.

Okay.

He'd find a job.

He could do it. He could find a job.

His laptop was at Steve's.

Fuck.

He had to go to Steve's.

He had to leave the house.

He didn't want to-

No. No. He had to go apply for jobs right now .

He drove back to Steve's heart racing. He tried to imagine it.

He could do it. He could work again. He was going well. He was doing less therapy. His medication was (mostly) stable.

He'd have to stop cooking so much. He needed to prioritise his physical therapy.

He wouldn't be able to get a cat.

He had been looking at adopting a cat. He'd even bookmarked a few of them. That would have to go on the backburner. He had been looking forward to that.

But it would be better this way. Steve wouldn't think he was just using him. Oh god, did Steve think Bucky was too dependent on him? Bucky had done a good job at hiding some things, but what if how he was currently was still too much?

He did manage to make it to Steve's without a panic attack.

Once inside the front door, he sank against it, fighting to breathe. He just had to breathe. Bucky could breathe. He knew how to talk himself down from these things. C'mon Barnes. You can do this. In two three four, hold two three four, out two three four. Rinse, repeat. Slowly, he didn't know how slowly, his breathing normalised. He lost some time. That was okay. He was okay.

He was okay. He was safe. Here was safe. Steve was safe. Laura was safe. Sarah was safe. Bucky was safe.

He peeled himself off the front door, grabbed his laptop and set himself up in the living room. He didn't even know what he could do. He didn't have any qualifications. He'd been army and specials ops, but… what could he do now?

He… He could just look around. He could just see what was around the area. Just to get an idea.

He had another panic attack when he realised he'd have to write a resume. A cover letter.

He wasn't qualified for any of these.

He couldn't do any of these.

This one was too many people. That was too loud.

He couldn't do any of these. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't do anything.

He.

He…

Oh. He'd lost time again.

But he was back.

He lost it again.

How much time had passed?

He stared at his phone. Oh. Messages from Steve. He replied, false cheer in them. Steve sent a bunch of hearts, what he did when he was busy but wanted Bucky to know he was thinking of him.

Phone down.

Stared at the laptop.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

Finally, he curled up and gave into the sobs that had been threatening to overtake him all day.

He couldn't do this.

Chapter Text

The end was in sight, or at least that's what Steve kept telling himself. Nick had been on him like a ton of bricks pretty much constantly for months now, but it couldn't continue, right? Steve wasn't one to give up, ever, but fuck him - he was exhausted. He hadn't done this many hours since he was an intern and fighting desperately to prove his worth. The problem with being one of the best lawyers at Shield was, well, he was one of the best damn lawyers at Shield, and was getting more complex cases with every passing week. And he was so damn tired.

But, at 8pm, his day was finally over. That was an improvement from the nearly 11pm of the previous week though. The girls would be nearly ready for bed, but he'd be able to see them. Bucky wouldn't have taken his medication yet either so he'd get to spend some time with him. He'd probably yawn the whole time and just sit on the couch with his head on Bucky's shoulder, but right then that was all Steve wanted in the world.

Steve was just so tired, and frustrated, but he knew he had to keep going. He wanted a hug, a long shower, and for Bucky to fuck the frustration out of him, and then maybe give him a neck rub if he was lucky (he was always lucky when it came to Bucky).

The house was relatively quiet when he got home, some gentle rock music playing in the background. That was a good sign. On bad days, Bucky played instrumental music, said it helped make his head quiet. On good days, he played things with words. Today had to be a good day. Thank god. Steve adored every part of Bucky, but if today was a bad day, he didn't know what he'd do. Bucky still tried to hide so much of where he was hurting from Steve, and Steve wasn't about to force him to open up. Bucky always opened up when he was ready. But he was still relieved today was good.

Bucky looked up from his position on the couch the instant Steve came inside, face lighting up. He put his book down instantly, crossing the room to bury Steve in a tight hug. Steve hadn't even had the chance to remove his coat, just allowed himself to be wrapped in strong arms. Bucky smelled as good as he always did, and was the warmth to Steve's coolness. He rubbed his face into the space between Bucky's neck and shoulder, tension melting out of him.

"Hey," Steve said, mouth muffled against Bucky's hoodie.

"Hey." Bucky sounded happy at least. "Bad day?"

Steve nodded wordlessly, and eased away. "Bad week. Bad month."

"I made dinner," Bucky told him, easing Steve out of his coat before dragging him over to the kitchen, where he pulled a warm plate from the oven and set it up for him on the counter beside a beer. He moved quickly, a rhythm long-established. Steve always tried to help, only to get swatted out of the way and told he interrupted Bucky's flow. Now, instead, he just sat on the barstools and watched, feeling more than a little in love.

"I knew I loved you for a reason," Steve joked as he dug into the moussaka.

Bucky gave him a closed mouth grin, tucking his hair back behind his ears. They talked about Steve's day, and he launched into a rant about how ridiculous some things at his firm were, his frustrations at Nick. Bucky nodded where appropriate, and picked fun at his boss and coworkers as necessary, making Steve laugh and more of the tension disappear.

As they talked, and he ate, it occurred to Steve how nice this was. How much he loved it. It was frighteningly domestic, and… not at all how he pictured his life being. Not the domesticity, but coming home to someone he loved, with a home cooked meal, who brought him a drink and smiled at him like he might have hung the moon.

Steve had never been about gender roles, not really. He'd had a single mom, and she'd never let any man give her shit. She'd raised him right, or so he'd been told. His mom had liked Peggy, had liked their similarities. Peggy had never stood for stereotypes either. They'd shared the chores, and he'd never once had the impression that Peggy needed taking care of.

He hadn't even known this might be a thing he liked. He liked coming home to dinner being made, and warm hugs and kisses. He liked feeling like he was looking after Bucky. Bucky could work if he wanted, and Steve would encourage that the second Bucky brought it up. He knew Bucky was good for money too, that he had more than enough of his own. But even if he lacked in that, Steve wouldn't have minded helping him out.

The thoughts made him spiral a little, and he buried himself mentally in his food. He… He wasn't supposed to think like this! His Mama had raised him better, and Peggy had cemented those lessons. He wasn't supposed to like coming home to meals like this, and someone who loved him. He wasn't supposed to take pleasure in the idea of being the breadwinner, damn it! Steve wasn't like that, okay?

"I can do the dishes!" Steve said suddenly, standing up so quickly that he almost knocked the barstool over.

Bucky blinked rapidly a few times, cocking his head. Steve moved over to the sink, trying to pay it no heed. Guilt swamped him. He really ought to help Bucky out more. Bucky wasn't working, but he looked after the girls, and ensured the house was pristine, and there was always amazing food.

It wasn't easy being a stay at home parent at the best of times, let alone Bucky having to do all his physical therapy, and emotional therapy, and sometimes taking day trips down to New York to have things looked at. As he scrubbed at the plate and the soaking pans, he felt worse. Bucky did so much and here Steve was enjoying it? He felt like one of the misogynistic jerks he'd always fought so hard not to be. Bucky wasn't a girl, but Steve was still projecting those problematic and damaging attitudes on him and… He felt sick at himself.

He scrubbed up harder.

Bucky watched him with bemusement, his expression a little lost and sad. Steve felt angrier at himself. Great, Bucky was probably upset at him for not helping out more often, and just hadn't said anything. Sure, Bucky was good at holding his own but…

The expression was gone by the time Steve had finished with the dishes, and Steve felt better. After he dried his hands, he wrapped his arms around Bucky again. Bucky tensed under his touch, but relaxed eventually. Steve kissed him beside the ear.

"I'm going to go say goodnight to the girls, and then… bedroom? I'll rub your shoulder if you fuck me until I can't think anymore?"

Bucky pulled away slightly, grinning wolfishly. "Deal."

Sarah was annoyed at him again and was barely speaking to him; when he spoke to her she answered in sullen tones. It hurt. But Steve didn't blame her either. He knew he had been around less and less, and she was upset with him. But he didn't know what to do, tried to read her a bedtime story, a nice long one. She accepted it grudgingly, and by the end was curled in his lap.

"Can you please be home to read me stories before bed more? Please?" She asked, voice small and sleepy as he tucked her blankets around her shoulders.

"I'll do my best," he said, not wanting to make a promise he couldn't keep.

"No, promise ," she insisted, her voice sad. "You're never home, Dad."

Steve sighed. "I'll do my best," he repeated.

Sarah sighed and sniffed a little, sleep already taking her down and preventing any further arguments. Guilt wracked him as he made his way through the house, flicking the lights off on the way to the main bedroom. Bucky was reading his book in bed, hair piled in a messy bun. After locking the door, Steve threw himself face first on the bed, crawling up to bury his face in Bucky's lap. Bucky played idly with his hair, rubbing at his scalp. The metal felt nice, and despite the heavy feeling in his stomach and tightness in his chest from the stress, he felt himself relaxing. It was probably the exhaustion more than anything.

"Sarah's upset with me. Again." Steve sighed into Bucky's thigh, turning his face more to the side so he could look up at him.

"I know," Bucky agreed, giving him a rueful smile. "She misses you. She doesn't say it but…"

Steve sighed again, and rolled onto his back, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He allowed himself a moment just to hate the universe before shelving it again. He had really wanted to get fucked by Bucky tonight, needed it really. Bucky didn't need to deal with all his stuff anyway, he had so much of his own to handle. Steve very carefully boxed away those emotions and drew his hands away, smiling up at him.

"Hey," Steve chuckled.

"Hey," Bucky bent forward and kissed him, just once. "You sure you want to do anything? We could just go to bed. You look like you need the sleep."

"I know… But yes. I've had a shit month, and I'd really appreciate being fucked until I want to scream."

"You can't scream, the girls are here."

"I know . When work finally slows down, let's get a hotel or a sitter or something, and spend a night fucking."

Bucky chuckled. "Sure. If it slows down…"

Steve frowned, buried his face in Bucky's lap again. "Don't joke about things like that. I might not make it through unless I believe that it will actually end."

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. His tone went commanding. "C'mon. Strip."

Steve fixed him with a look that he hoped spoke volumes. "Your seduction needs a little work," he advised, unbuttoning his shirt nonetheless. Bucky didn't look away, and it sent shivers down Steve's spine. He was always so hot when he got bossy.

"Oh, by the way, I was thinking of spending a night at my place in the next few days," Bucky said as he pushed back the covers. Steve nodded, working on removing his pants, not really paying attention. He was distracted momentarily from his task when Bucky pulled him forward into a searing kiss and then shoved him to his knees.

His brain, finally, blissfully, went quiet.

*

Bucky couldn't sleep. Steve… Steve helped out a lot. He was wonderful like that. But the way he'd just taken over in the kitchen, scrubbing furiously at the the pots and pans Bucky had set aside to soak… God, it was all of Bucky's worst fears coming true. Steve was a great communicator, but sometimes he didn't realise things were bothering him until they burst out of him. He was probably frustrated that Bucky was always home, probably thought he needed a job too.

Even with his medication, thoughts raced around his brain. Usually his sleeping pills were so strong that they knocked the thoughts right out but tonight he wasn't so lucky. That he was able to push past them and work himself into a state of anxiety might have been impressive, were it not for the whole anxiety, and inability to sleep thing. Bucky was not a fan to say the least.

He should have been tired. After the panic of the day, and then fucking Steve twice and hard (his limbs had been jello afterwards), he should absolutely have been exhausted. And he was. But the thoughts kept racing around, telling him he was worthless, that any day now Steve would realize…

Some time around three he managed to fall asleep, but woke up again when Steve got up at six. After that, his body decided he didn't need sleep, so he got out of bed, and stared blearily into his mug of coffee while Steve got ready for work. He didn’t usually drink coffee, and it was probably a mistake for his anxiety, but he was just so tired.

Steve eyed the coffee as he fiddled with his tie. “You look like shit. Bad night?”

Bucky glared blearily at him and grunted. “Love you too.”

At least his brain was kind of quiet for the moment, if only because he was so exhausted that he couldn't actually think. The anxiety still chewed at him, reminding him that he was scraping at the bottom of his reserves of strength.  

"You'll be at your place tonight?" Steve confirmed, ducking to kiss him as Bucky stared into the depths of his mug.

Bucky nodded, finally breaking away from that view to look at Steve. Steve at least appeared looked like he'd slept well; he was bright-eyed, impish, and didn’t seem to be clutching his coffee with the desperation of a dying man as he often did. He damn  well should have; he'd all but passed out once Bucky was done with him, absolutely worn out. That had been the point.

"Just need a quiet night or two?"

He nodded again. Steve hummed, rubbing at Bucky's shoulder. Bucky relaxed, leaning back to rest his head against Steve's shoulder.

"Oh shit, I fell asleep before I could rub your shoulder." Steve sounded regretful, and dug his thumbs into the muscle on Bucky's sore side, trying to break apart the knots that never quite disappeared. Both sides often hurt for their own reasons, but the pain on this side spread down his back and up his neck, radiating.

"S'ok," Bucky murmured, letting his eyes close. "You were pretty out of it by the time I was done with you."

Steve kissed the edge of his neck, still rubbing. "I was pretty out of it by the time you got me on my knees."

Bucky hummed happily. "I know. It was wonderful."

Steve's chuckle was warm. "Thank you, again."

"Yeah," Bucky said drily. "I hated every second of it. Does nothing for me."

Steve laughed again, louder, before clapping a hand over his mouth. The house was mostly soundproof, but there was something about the still silence of the morning that felt like it shouldn't be broken with loud sounds. "Now, now, no need for sarcasm."

"My mistake. I know that's your job."

Steve pinched him gently in answer, before resuming the touches. "I promise that the next night we have together I'll try to come home early and give you a shoulder rub."

"I know," Bucky said. He knew Steve worked his ass off, and Bucky didn't hold it against him. He missed him, sure. And he missed him a lot at the moment, given they seemed to have lost their lunchtimes together, but he knew Steve's job mattered to him so Bucky was willing to put up with a little less Steve time for a while. More than himself, he felt bad for Sarah, who insisted she was fine through gritted teeth and snarls.

"You sure you don't want to be here tonight?" Steve asked, regretful when pulled away. It was almost time to go. "I love waking up beside you. One of the best parts of my day."

Bucky was torn. He did want to be here. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in Steve's arms and cry until it stopped hurting inside, and have Steve play with his hair while he did. The world felt a little less overwhelming with Steve at his side. On the other hand, Bucky kind of just wanted to hurt in peace. Steve didn't need to witness that, didn't need to know he was as broken as he was.

"Yeah… I just…" He shrugged. "I can still watch Sarah if you need."

Steve shook his head. "I'll leave work early. If I get stuck, I'll message you. But I'll do my best." Steve studied his face, a little divot appearing between his eyebrows. Bucky wanted to smooth it away, but refrained. "You sure you're okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep. Hoping that my own bed will help." He doubted that though; Steve had an amazing bed, and the softest sheets he’d ever encountered.

"Sure." Steve gave him one more coffee-flavoured kiss, sweet and tender. "Well, let me know if you change your mind. I love being around you."

He got the girls up and ready for school, a little less connected to reality than normal. The girls definitely picked up on it again, and were timid. They spoke to each other in whispers, and Laura kept poking her head into the kitchen as if she feared if she went away for more than a few minutes he’d disappear. It just made Bucky feel worse though, knowing that they saw through him. He didn't have the energy to plaster a smile to his face though. Laura hugged him extra tight when he dropped her off, and glanced back over her shoulder multiple times at him as she went inside.

Back at his apartment, Bucky tried to fight his way through his routine. He did his physical therapy. He read the books that his therapist had assigned, or at least, he stared at the pages. He cleaned, and cleaned, and tried to cook, and burned his hand, and broke a plate, and sat on the floor having a panic attack. He was running low on his valium. Bucky thought he might be becoming dependent on them, so he forced himself not to take them.

He just had to work through it.

He’d be fine.

He could do this.

He could. Couldn't he?

*

He felt worthless. He'd tried talking to his therapist about it, but… Bucky still felt horrible. She'd only given him useless advice, like talking to Steve about his feelings. Didn't she understand? That was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. Bucky had agency now, and he was deciding he didn't want to tell Steve.

Besides. If he could just get a job, this would all be okay. Steve kept helping out more and more with the chores, even though he worked, and Bucky could read between the lines. He knew what Steve was trying to say even if he wasn't saying it. Bucky probably needed a job anyway. Hill didn't agree, but what did she know? She was just his therapist. Bucky knew himself and it would all be okay if he could just find a job.

He sat on the couch at Steve's house, trying to make it work. Hill sighed and said she felt that this endeavour might hinder his progress. He was okay for money, there was no need to rush. But Bucky was determined. He was. He was going to do this, and Steve wouldn't feel like he was a mess, Steve would see that he was normal, and functional, and.

Bucky tried to fumble his way through a resume, but there was so much information online. The screen was too bright. There were too many words. There were just walls and walls of text, and the ads. Why were there so many ads? They flashed at him and were bright.

No. No. He could do this.

He took a few deep breaths, glaring at the laptop as if it might make the words easier to understand.

What were his skills? That was the next step after his name and contact details.

He didn't know what skills he had. He didn't know what he was good at. He was an excellent sniper, one of the best in the world, and one of the best kept secrets thanks to it. But that wasn't exactly something he could put on his resume.

The world swayed in front of him and he belatedly realised he was hyperventilating. He tried to suck in air. Just. Think. Think of skills.

He had to have them, right?

He knew how to breathe, right?

He just had to breathe.

Just breathe. Breathe. He could do this.

He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. There would be people, and loud, and people, and sensations and…

There were things on his shoulder, gripping him. Oh god, he felt held down. He was back there, he was back there and they were going to try and get more information out of him. He was going to give it and it wasn’t going to be enough, and the pain would just go on and on and on and. He was being held down, he couldn't breathe and he was trappedtrappedtrapped, and he had to breathe, he had to get out of there and. Steve?

Steve? What? Why was Steve in his cell?

He blinked up furiously, trying to clear his vision, but Steve stayed.

He… He wasn’t in the cell.

He was in Steve’s house. He was safe?

Bucky hadn't heard Steve come home, stared up at him with an expression that he knew had to be horror. It felt like there was a big sucking feeling on reality, and things were swaying, like he was on a boat. His hands that came up to wipe at his wet face were shaking so badly that he didn't even risk using his metal arm, lest he accidentally stab himself in the eye.

"Bucky?" Steve was kneeling beside him, a hand resting on either shoulder. He wasn't being held down. It was just Steve. Steve was just resting his hands on his shoulders, not even gripping. Just resting.

When had Steve come home?

Oh god, he couldn't let Steve see him like this. Steve didn't need to know he was so broken, didn't need to see him crying. Steve shouldn't have to see him like this. He was… Oh god, Steve was going to think he was so weak. Bucky tried so hard to keep it together, and all of that was ruined.

Why was Steve home?

He blinked up at him, eyes darting around. How much time had he lost? Was it evening? Oh fuck, had he missed picking the girls up from school so Steve had come home? No, no, it was still definitely day. The clock on the wall said it was still only one in the afternoon. He didn't even have to get the girls from school yet. So… Why was Steve home?

"Bucky? You there?" Steve asked, expression nervous.

Bucky looked back at him, saw the worry in his blue eyes. The loudness in his head went quiet, muffled. Slowly, he nodded.

"How often does this happen?" Steve was stroking his wrists now, had moved his hold from his shoulders. His hands were so warm. "How… I…" He sounded worried. Oh no, Bucky hadn't wanted to worry Steve.

"I…" Bucky trailed off. "I… I'm sorry," he croaked. He hurriedly wiped at his face again, hands shaking less. He hadn't realised he was crying. "I didn't know you'd be home. You should have called."

"I wanted to surprise you. I…" Steve looked over at the coffee table. Bucky's eyes followed his gaze and winced. His stomach tightened impossibly. Flowers and champagne, the expensive French kind?

"What…?"

"I got made partner," Steve grimaced, expression rueful. "Thought I'd come and…" He shrugged.

Bucky sucked in a breath, another form of panic gripping him. Steve was going to leave, and it was going to suck, suck so much. Bucky didn't blame him. Bucky would leave. Bucky was broken. "Oh god. I'm so sorry. I…"

"No, no. I." Steve sat back on his heels, an endearing image. He was still in his suit, and it stretched across his thighs, looked so strange with him on the floor. That was something he needed to file away for later. "How often does this happen?" Steve asked again. And Bucky knew Steve well enough by now to know that he wasn't going to let this go.

He inhaled shakily. "Sometimes?" He offered, hoping that was enough of an answer.

Steve frowned. Apparently not enough of an answer then. He didn't look angry, just contemplative.

"Okay. I'm going to go make us something to drink, and change out of this. Just… You just stay there, okay? I'll be back in a minute." He leaned forward, looking like he was going to kiss Bucky, but then pulled up short. "Is it okay if I kiss you?" Bucky nodded once, staring up at him and with a confusing mixture of empty and terrified. Steve kissed his forehead and then eased himself off the floor, grabbing the champagne bottle and bringing it into the kitchen.

He heard Steve move around quickly, setting some water on to boil before he disappeared off to the bedroom. Bucky sat on the floor, numb, trying to make sense of what the fuck was happening, trying to talk himself down from the edge of his mind where he feared this was it. This was the end.

Oh god, Steve had made partner, and wanted to celebrate and he'd found Bucky like this and… Bucky choked on another sob, despite his best efforts. It all just wanted to come out of him now, and he couldn't stop it.

Steve was back, in sweatpants and a tight t-shirt, two mugs of something hot in either hand. Bucky stared at him from the ground. God, he hadn't even managed to get off the floor. He didn't even know how he'd made it to the floor in the first place. The last thing he remembered was being on the couch, trying to research skills and resumes and… He blinked again, trying not to let his mind get overwhelmed. Steve set the mugs on the coffee table beside his MacBook; Bucky smelled peppermint tea.

Above him, Steve flopped into the couch, sighing heavily. "You want to stay down there, or?" He trailed off. He had no doubt that if he wanted to stay on the floor, Steve would allow it, would probably play with his hair. Bucky looked between the ground and the couch and climbed up onto it, leaving space between him and Steve. Steve didn't seem to notice it, just pulled him in close, making Bucky make a little 'oof' sound with the force of his hug. Bucky tensed up instinctively.

"C'mon, we should talk. What's going on, Buck?" Steve asked, face buried in Bucky's hair.

"You're not mad?" Bucky asked, voice smaller than he would have liked.

"What- Why on earth would I be mad?" Steve sounded incredulous.

Bucky shrugged.

"I love you. I came home and I found you like this and I'm worried. What's wrong?" He paused. "You don't have to talk about it, I can't force you, but I want to help you. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"You're… You're not breaking up with me?"

"What?!" Steve, if possible, sounded even more incredulous, and drew away from the hug that he was giving Bucky. "Do you want to break up? I didn't even know that was a conversation we were considering." The expression on Steve’s face felt like a punch in the stomach. He looked positively crushed, another layer of hurt on his already troubled face.

Bucky's insides churned, and he felt sick. He shook his head. "No, I don't want to but maybe-" He cut himself off. That wasn't what Steve was asking.

"Look, I don't want us to break up. You don't want us to break up. That seems like a great reason not to break up." He pulled Bucky back into his arms and this time, Bucky let himself be pulled in closer, practically into Steve's lap. It was a little uncomfortable for a moment, his face smushed into Steve's impossible tits.

When he pulled away, Steve made a little wounded sound and tightened his grip.

"'M just readjusting," Bucky muttered, shifting so that his legs were thrown over Steve's lap. It was nice, being cradled and slightly smushed in Steve’s arms like this. The panic slowly subsided in him, soothed and quieted by Steve's hands gently stroking his hair. Shame replaced the panic, and he buried his face in Steve's shoulder, huffing. Steve pressed small kisses to the top of his head and forehead.

"Why are you applying for jobs? Are you okay for money? If you want, I can help with your rent,” Steve said into the long silence. Bucky pulled his head off Steve's shoulder, blinking in confusion. Steve nodded towards the laptop, screen still on. DON’T PUT THESE FIVE THINGS IN YOUR RESUME screamed in capitals at the top of the screen.  

Bucky shook his head and let it fall back to Steve's shoulder. Now that he wasn't propelled along by panic, he was painfully tired. He'd barely slept for the last week and a half, and every day had felt worse and worse. In some ways, his panic made sense. He was exhausted, not thinking clearly.

"I'm okay for money," Bucky confirmed.

"Then… What? Why? Bucky, what's wrong? If you want to find a job, I'll support you in that, but… don't you think it's a little early to be getting back out there? It’s a lot of stress you don’t need to put yourself through. If you're worried about money, please, let me help you. That's what partners are for."

He shook his head again. "I just… I just thought maybe… It's time for me to get a job." Bucky said.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like it was time. I thought maybe…" He trailed off. It sounded so stupid to him now. "I thought maybe you thought I was just using you for money, and that I was lazy because I'm always home."

Steve inhaled sharply and pulled away from Bucky so he could look at his face. Bucky stared at his lap, eyes darting up a little to try and take note of Steve's face.

"Okay," Steve huffed, using the same tone he always used when he was about to embark on a rant. "First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, Bucky, even if I did have a problem with you being home all the time, I'd be a complete and utter jackass. You've been a prisoner of war for fucking six years! You're allowed to not work for as long as you fucking want, as far as I'm concerned. Third, if I did have a problem with that, then you should dump me because what kind of asshole would I be? Besides, I'd just say something. You can always trust me to just say something . And fourth, you do so much here! So much! Being a stay at home parent is a lot of goddamn work, and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise. You always cook and clean, and take care of the girls, and me, and you do that on top of all the other shit you have to do. Finally, again, what the fuck?"

Bucky wanted to curl into himself. He felt so stupid. "I just figured you might have thought…"

Steve drew away again, staring at Bucky in the eye in those few microseconds when Bucky would actually meet them. His tone gentled. "Bucky, what on earth gave you the idea that I wanted you to work?"

He shrugged. "One of the moms… And… And I thought maybe I could. And then you came home and started helping out and I." He stopped himself, frowning at his knees. "It made a lot more sense before. I haven't slept well in a while."

Steve tugged him in close again, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Buck, if you want to get a job because you feel ready, then I support the fuck out of it. But what I saw when I came in here… I hate to say it, pal, but I'm not sure you are." Shame burned at Bucky's insides. He was a wreck. "Furthermore, I know I don't get a say, because it's your life and your body, but I definitely do not mind you being a stay at home dad. I kind of love it." His voice sounded pained, and Bucky looked up at him, bemused.

"I love coming home and you being here with dinner cooked, and the girls happy and looked after. Like, I really love it. And it's kind of been making me feel terrible because my Mom and Peggy… They definitely drilled into me that gender roles are bullshit, and that's stupid because you're not a girl, but I love it, and I love feeling like I'm looking after you, and you're looking after me. You don't need a big job if you don't want one. If it makes you happiest to stay at home and bake all day, then I support it. I know you're not using me for my money. And even if you didn't have money of your own, I'd still support this, okay? I just want you to be happy."

Bucky buried his face in Steve's neck. He felt so stupid. Stupid, and happy.

"Really?"

"Really," Steve confirmed. "Is that what this was all about?"

Bucky shrugged. "I… have some issues."

"What a shock," Steve deadpanned, and Bucky hit him gently in the chest.

"I don't want you to think I'm a wreck."

"Bucky," Steve sighed, kissing the top of his head. "I don't think you're a wreck. I know there's a lot of stuff going on in there. I don't ask about it because I'm trying to respect you and give you the space to come to me when you're ready. I know there's a lot going on. But I don't think you're a wreck. I think you're amazing. You seem so strong, all the time, but I know you try to hide when you're hurting from me. You don't have to hide it from me though. I want to help you."

Bucky shrugged, hiding himself away from the words, embarrassed. "I can get by on my own," he said, holding onto his last vestiges of dignity.  

"I know that. The thing is, you don't have to." He pulled Bucky in closer. "I'm with you 'till the end of the line. No matter where that is."

His throat felt like it was going to close up, or something was stuck in it. Against his wishes, his eyes stung. "I love you," Bucky finally said, voice small.

"I love you too. So. Stay home and cook and read, okay? Let me take care of you."

Bucky chuckled, battling internally. He'd deal with that later. For now, he wanted the conversation over. "So, partner?!"

Steve laughed throatily, his relief apparent in the way his shoulders dropped and how easily his laugh came. "Yep, Nick told me just before. I'll be working a hell of a lot less too. We can have our lunch breaks back!"

Bucky hugged Steve so tightly that he sounded like he was struggling to breathe for a moment. "I'm so proud of you."

*

Steve stayed home the rest of the afternoon. He and Bucky shared a small glass of the champagne, Bucky still seemed shy and on-guard about the whole thing.

Was Steve a terrible person for being kind of grateful how things had happened? It wasn't nice to come home and find your partner having a panic attack on the ground, but at least it had started them talking. Maybe Steve needed to revise his strategy about waiting for Bucky to come to him when he was upset. Clearly he'd been holding all of that in.

Steve was going to love on him so hard, and make Bucky goddamn communicate if it killed him.

It was nice to pick the girls up at school, something he got to do very rarely. He tried not to get his hopes up that this might get to be more regular, because there was still a lot of shit to sort out as partner. But the hard part was over, and Nick had damn well said he could start leaving at a normal hour.

Bucky let him drive the Camaro. He'd only had the one small drink, but he apparently 'didn't want to risk it with his medication'. Steve suspected he just knew it delighted Steve whenever he got to drive it. And hey, Steve was not about to complain because holy shit, driving this thing never got old.

Sarah looked shocked to see him standing in the parking lot. They'd arrived early, had gotten out and were talking with T'Challa when the bell sounded. Sarah frowned and crossed over to him, her little face screwed up.

"Is Mom okay?" was the first thing out of her mouth.

Ouch. "What makes you think that, sweetie?"

"You only pick me up when something is wrong."

Double ouch. He saw Bucky wince out of the corner of his eye, but Laura tackled him with a hug. Steve tried not to feel too down; he'd earn those from Sarah again soon, hopefully.

Hopefully there wasn't too much damage. Despite being made partner, it really was not feeling like his day. His daughter felt neglected, his partner had been having a meltdown thinking Steve wanted him to work when Steve really just wanted him to be happy. He shook his head. He was being given the chance to repair things, and he was damn well going to.

"Well, I'm going to try and pick you up a lot more often now, actually."

She frowned at him, clearly disbelieving. "Really." Oh god, she really was her mother, everything from the arched eyebrow and flat, sassy tone.

"Yep. Now, c'mon, let's go get a snack before ballet."

The girls didn't really understand the point of being made partner, but they did note that it meant Steve would be around more. Sarah still didn't believe him, which made Steve sigh inwardly, but only more determined to make things right.

They went to bed early, both of them exhausted from the day. As he curled up in Bucky's arm, resting on his chest and playing with the little curls of hair there, he asked "You sure you don't want to move in yet?"

Bucky snorted. "I'll think about it."

"I understand if you still want your own space. But just know the offer is there whenever you want to take it.”

"I know," Bucky admitted quietly. He rubbed at Steve's scalp absently. It was nice.

He fell asleep with the lamp still on, lulled by the steady beat of Bucky's heart under his ear.

*

“C’mon, Sare-bear, we gotta go if we want to make the movie. Go, put your shoes and coat on.”

“I don’t wanna go anymore.” Sarah’s sulked. Bucky tried not to listen in, really, but they were in literally the next room. Sarah was playing what sounded like Kingdom Hearts in the lounge room, amidst a boss battle. Bucky hated that he knew the songs, just as he did all the words to Moana, Frozen, and Tangled. He hadn’t thought he could get sick of Moana , but here he was. If he heard ‘You’re Welcome’ one more time, he was going to institutionalise himself.

“Why not? This was your idea. Don’t you want to see Mr. Gnomes ?” Steve’s voice wasn’t desperate yet, but Bucky knew it was going to be soon. Despite Steve’s best efforts to mend things with Sarah things were not going as smoothly as he might have hoped. She seemed happy to milk it, and she was cuddling Steve more on movie nights than Bucky now, but her prickliness had been inconsistent. Today was a very prickly day.

“God, you can’t even get the movie name right! It’s Sherlock Gnomes! ”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve muttered. “My mistake.” Bucky could practically hear the eye roll.

Bucky tried to focus on his book but he’d read The Lord of the Rings about forty times before and today was a less-good brain day. Not a bad mental health day, thank goodness, but rather one where he was a little foggier and slower than he usually liked to be.

“C’mon, get up,” Steve insisted, a little more force in his voice. The patience was wearing thin, not just from today, but a few weeks now of increased sass and grump.

“No,” Sarah snapped back. The television got louder.

“Sarah.” Steve’s voice was a warning by this point. “You wanted to see this movie, and I want to take you. Now put your coat on.”

“No! I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay here and play Kingdom Hearts !” she shouted, little voice surprisingly shrill and carrying. She continued, more sullen than shouting now: “S’not like you’re home much anyway.”

Bucky grimaced and heard Steve exhale before taking a deep breath. He was no doubt be torn between frustration and hurt, a potent combination. Bucky was glad he was not in that room right now. Even still, he contemplated leaving the adjoining room, feeling too much like he was intruding on a private moment. In the end he decided against it. It would be more obvious that he could hear them then if he got up and left now.

“Sarah, please don’t shout. I’m home now, and I’m trying to take you to the movies like I promised.” Bucky was impressed at the steadiness in his voice. Good, Steve, just keep it up, and things would be fine , he thought, as if thinking it hard enough might telepathically send his well-wishes to his partner.

“Yeah, well, you promise a lotta things. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Steve did his steady breathing again. “Sarah, if you’re going to be rude, you can go to your room.”

“Fine! Not like we were going to spend time together anyway.” She was shouting again, and Bucky heard the pause music on the game, and her throw the controller down on the couch.

“And no, you’re not taking your iPad. Give it here. I’m not sending you to your room to play. I’m sending you there to chill out.”

“Whatever.” Bucky just hoped she didn’t throw her iPad with the same force as her controller. He didn’t hear any cracking, or swearing though, only stomping out of the family room, past Bucky and up the wooden stairs before slamming her bedroom door so loudly that Bucky was surprised the house didn’t shake.

The music on the television disappeared, and Steve shuffled into the living room, downtrodden.

He placed the iPad on the coffee table before laying across Bucky with a heavy sigh. “My kid hates me,” Steve groaned, burying his head in Bucky’s stomach.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Bucky said. He put his book down on the floor beside him so he could rub Steve’s back. “She just missed you and doesn’t know how to say that.”

“I try so hard to be a good dad, but it seems in trying to give her everything I left a couple’a things out.” The defeat in his voice made Bucky hurt. Bucky wished he knew how to take away the hurt, the frustration. Steve had been trying, but it seemed that, like Steve, Sarah knew how to hold a grudge. But also like Steve, she’d eventually be okay. Bucky had faith. If Laura could to forgive him for everything she’d been through, Sarah could forgive Steve. He knew the circumstances were certainly different, but still.

Bucky tightened his arms around him. “She’ll be fine. Pinky promise.”

Steve snorted. “Am I Laura now?” He sighed, letting his body become lax on Bucky’s. This in itself was a victory for Bucky. Just three months ago if Steve had done this Bucky might have had a panic attack, hating any feeling of being held down or constrained. That Steve could drape himself over Bucky like a blanket and not cause a panic reaction was good; it was still far from soothing but progress was progress. Besides, Steve needed this, and Bucky wasn’t uncomfortable, so he just hugged Steve a little tighter.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck. I always have a plan, always. They joke around the office that I’m ‘the man with a plan’ but I think I’m kinda stumped here.”

Bucky moved his hands up Steve’s back to rub at his neck now. “I mean, if I were my therapist, I’d suggest you talk to her. But that’s a terrible idea; I hate talking about things.” He made sure the tease was obvious in his voice, because heck, they both knew the struggles of communication. He’d taken so long to open up about his history, and even longer to be open about the effects it still had in his everyday life. But unfortunately, Hill had been right. Again. Talking had helped, even if it made Bucky clammy and raw and vulnerable.

“I’ve tried,” Steve insisted.

“Kind of. You’ve talked at her and taken her out. You’ve changed some of the behaviours but I bet there’s more to it than she’s letting on. She’s like you: a stubborn little shit, with a sensitive inside. So if she’s still lashing out, you gotta figure out why, otherwise it’s just gonna keep being like this.”

Steve’s sigh was heavy. “I hate it when you’re right. I hate that this is so hard.”

Bucky snorted. “You know this isn’t hard. This is just a conversation. Law school, that was hard. Being a single dad, that was hard. Dating a semi-stable POW is hard. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks for the sympathy, doll.” Steve rolled his head up, digging his chin into Bucky’s sternum. His expression sombered. “Loving you is easy though. One of the easiest things I’ve ever done. Telling myself not to propose yet: that’s hard. But loving you? Easy as pie.”

Breathing was a little harder suddenly. Bucky had to look away, caught out by how overwhelmed and disgustingly in love he was. It was a Saturday afternoon, and all he’d expected was a quiet house to read his book, not to choke up from the fierceness of Steve’s declarations.

Thankfully Steve didn’t expect him to say anything, and instead lay his head back down on Bucky’s chest. He shifted up a bit, listening for his heartbeat. It was something he did a lot, and Bucky hadn’t asked.

“I’m just gonna lie here a bit longer though, if that’s okay with you.”

Bucky chuckled, relieved that the intensity of the moment had eased. “Sure, pal. Can you grab my book though?”

Steve passed it up, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before laying down again. It was hard to concentrate with Steve on his chest, but Bucky didn’t really mind. There were certainly worse things.

*

Steve allowed himself a brief nap on Bucky’s chest before going to deal with Sarah again. One of the parenting books he’d read recently had said that time-outs were ideally short, long enough for the child to calm down, but not so long as to cause resentment. Sarah had more than enough of that without Steve giving her time to stew.

The overwhelming sense of “ugh” continued with him. Talking to Bucky had helped, but he still wasn’t looking forward to this conversation any more than he imagined Sarah would be. Things had been so much easier when she was little and hadn’t developed his love of an argument. Once again, he felt deep sympathy for his mother and wished he could send her flowers or something in the afterlife.

He knocked on Sarah’s door gently.

“Come in.” Even still, Sarah’s voice was sulky.

Steve entered, shutting the door behind him. Sarah sniffled; Steve’s heart twisted. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. But then, he hadn’t meant for her to be upset at all. He wanted to take her to the movies and then out for pancakes after. He hated IHOP but Sarah loved it, in all its sticky glory. Today was meant to be a lovely day of bonding and him trying to again prove to her that he loved her, that he was going to be around more. Instead, they’d had wound up here.

“What?” Sarah huffed. She didn’t turn around to look at him. She was sitting on her bed, arms folded across her chest. Steve came around the other side and tentatively sat on the window seat, in her direct line of vision. She stopped looking out the window and instead focused on the floor, only glancing up to shoot him wounded glares.

“Nothing,” Steve said lightly. “Just thought I’d come see how you are.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’re my daughter, and I don’t like seeing you upset. I also don’t like you being rude, like you were downstairs. Now, do you want a hug?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

This time, Steve managed to suppress his heavy sigh. Instead he kept his voice light. “I’d like to talk about it. I’m very sorry I haven’t been around as much as we’d both like. I’ve been trying to make it up to you, but maybe I’m getting something wrong. I’d love to know how I can earn your trust back.”

“Don’t want your trust.” She mumbled. Steve resisted arguing that he wasn’t trying to give her his trust, knowing that wasn’t the point.

“Sarah, c’mon. Work with me here.”

“No.”

Obviously her time alone hadn’t allowed her to cool off, and issues would continue unresolved.  

“Okay, if you’re going to be like that, I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit longer. Maybe we can talk when you’re feeling a little more receptive.” Steve stood, prepared to give her another twenty minutes before he tried again. And he never wanted to force her. It taught bad habits, and showed he didn’t respect her space.

“Fine,” she huffed, sniffling again. He watched several fat tears roll down her face, hating himself. He’d done this. “You’re just gonna leave anyway.”

“What?” Steve paused, turning back to face her.

“You don’t love me, Mommy doesn’t love me, only Bucky loves me!” She became visibly worked up, hiccuping on sobs that she was struggling trying to contain.

The words were a knife in the gut, twisting and turning. “What? What on earth makes you think that?” His words were gentle, cautious. She didn’t think he loved her? That Peggy didn’t love her? Jesus. This was worse than he thought. He rushed to kneel beside her, resting his hands on her arms.

“You’re never home! Mommy’s never here. She didn’t even want to see me at Christmas. Only Bucky’s here and… and…” By now, Sarah had broken into full sobs, her words hardly audible among them. She barely looked at him, face red and puffy as she managed to choke out: “Why don’t you love me, Daddy?”

Steve always tried to respect her wishes not to hug if she didn’t want to, but he couldn’t take this any longer. He pulled her into his arms, her shaking body pressed to his. Her sobs were loud against his ear, and seemed to get worse with his hug.

“I do love you, sweetie. I do. I do .” He reassured, stroking her hair.

“No you don’t,” she wailed, the dam on her emotions officially broken. Still, she didn’t fight him, hugged him back as she sobbed.

“I do, promise. I do, and I’m sorry I ever made you doubt it. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” Steve hadn’t been aware of the lump in his own throat, nor that he was on the verge of tears, but he felt a few escape his own eyes. He never wanted to see his kid cry, least of all because of something he’d done. “And Mommy loves you too.”

“No she doesn’t,” Sarah insisted when she was able to breathe through her sobs. “She didn’t… even wanna see me at Christmas.”

“She had to work, baby. She does love you, you know that.”

“She always has to work. You always have to work. You nearly missed my school play because you were working.”

“But I didn’t miss it. I got there. I even brought you flowers,” Steve pointed out. He had been a few minutes late but he hadn’t missed a second of Sarah’s performance.

Sarah just kept sobbing, clinging to his neck. Steve brushed away a few more of his own tears. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said over and over again, telling her he loved her so much as her sobs slowly abated into hiccups.

When she seemed finally able to breathe a little more, he withdrew just enough to look at her, wiping a few tears that ran down her swollen face. “I promise, from now on, I’ll do my best. I’m so sorry you felt like Mommy and I didn’t love you. Hey, do… do you wanna try and call her later? She might be asleep, but we can try in a few hours?”

It was a tenuous bet to say they’d be able to get in contact with Peggy. He had no idea in the world where she was at any one time, and more often than not her work prevented her from being able to take urgent calls. But Steve would do whatever he could to get Peggy on the phone. Peggy would be just as heartbroken to hear that Sarah had been feeling this way.

Sarah nodded, lower lip still poking out. Steve kissed her forehead before he pulled her back into his arms. She sniffled again.

“Can we still go see Sherlock Gnomes ?” she asked in a tiny voice.

Steve laughed, picking her up. “Course we can. But no more rudeness, okay?” She nodded into his neck.

“Promise.” She paused. “Can we get a manicure?”

“Sure. We might have missed this screening, but how about we get our nails done and then see the movie after?”

“Can you get your nails done pink?”

Little brat. She was going to milk this for all she was worth. And Steve knew full well he was going to go along with it. “Done.”

She giggled.

*

Bucky stopped looking for jobs, and about a month later agreed that, yeah, he really should just move in with Steve. He and Laura spent every night there anyway.

'Finally living together officially' sex was excellent.

*

"Honestly, the only reason she's being moved up so quickly is because they feel sorry for him."

"Can you blame them?"

"And her hair. Really, that girl needs a good chemical straightening job, stat. She stands out like a sore thumb, takes the eyes away from the rest of them."

They weren't even trying to be quiet, and if Steve could hear it across the lobby of the ballet studio, then it was absolutely the case that Bucky could. Bucky was much closer to them, reading his book in the corner of the room that he usually occupied while waiting for the class to finish. God, he hated all the mothers in this town. A little voice reminded him that that wasn't actually the case, that it was really just these same few, but the frustrated voice didn't care for that right now.

He strode a little closer, part of him trying to confirm that they were indeed talking about Laura, and not some other child. That said, he wasn't above eviscerating them verbally, Laura or otherwise.

"I mean, she's clearly fond of him. Wouldn't surprise me if he's stepping out on Steve, given he's never around."

"Oh please, Steve has been involved with Natasha for years."

"What's going on?" Steve asked quietly, finally reaching Bucky's side. He told himself not to get too angry. He didn't know what was happening, he could be overreacting. The moms continued gossiping, clearly unaware that Steve was there.

Bucky was tight with tension. "There were assessments today to see who could move up a level, and only Laura and Esihle made it. Some moms are pissed." He referred to Nakia and T'Challa's daughter, Esihle, and the only other girl who rivaled Laura in the class.

"Laura gets to move up? That's great!" He had suspected Sarah wouldn't do it; her interest in ballet was waning, but she hadn't found anything else she was particularly passionate about. Laura, on the other hand, practiced constantly, and although she'd started out pointes around Christmas, moving up in the class was an excellent sign. Nakia and T'Challa were going to be so proud as well.

Bucky looked delighted, even smirked at bit. The Mom's were definitely still bitching over there and now that he knew what he did, he had no doubt that they were talking about him and Bucky.

"She's not even that pretty. How can a girl that isn't pretty be a dancer?"

Okay, that did it.

"You know, if you have a problem with Bucky and I, say it to us. But leave Laura out of this."

Carol, Pamela, Deborah all turned around, surprised to see him there. They had not been all that friendly since he'd lost it at them last Halloween.

"Steve," Pamela said drily, inspecting her nails. "How pleasant to see you here. And the girl really isn't that talented, neither of them are. Natasha just pities them, that's all. And it's not fair on the other girls to have such blatant favoritism."

"Wow," Steve drawled, folding his arms across his chest. "I can't believe it. Those are the children in there, but you're the ones acting like it."

Pamela's mouth dropped open. Behind her, Carol and Deborah's did as well.

"Well, I never! I'll see to it that you never attend another PFA meeting,” Carol snapped.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh no, I'm devastated," he intoned sarcastically. He wasn't worried about it, and he knew that they really had no power there. Most of the other parents loved him. "Your casserole isn't even that good," he added at the last minute.

The room became so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. There was the muffled sound of the piano in the studio, but utter silence.

"Steve, that was too far!" Deborah spoke first, outraged. Pamela was white, and Carol's wide eyes darted between Steve and Pamela.

"I'm not sorry," Steve said coldly. "It's called flavor; have you heard of it?" He paused and then threw in an extra barb. "Bucky makes the best damn casserole I've ever tried, bar none."

"Steve…" Bucky exhaled behind him, fondly exasperated. 

"Leave the girls out of it. They've done nothing wrong. Just because I was never interested in any of you doesn’t mean the girls deserve your petty bullying." He crossed the lobby, not getting close enough to intimidate, but making a point of showing he wasn't afraid. "If I hear any of you say one more cruel thing about those girls, I will make sure you regret it it."

"Is that a threat, Steve?" breathed Pamela, glaring daggers at him and cocking her head slowly, like she belonged in some weird B-grade horror film.

"No," Steve said mildly. "But if you make those little girls in there feel bad about themselves, and it might just become one."

The silence fell over the lobby again, but this time it was broken by the sound of the doors opening. He continued to glare at Pamela until the last second. Class had ended and a small crowd of girls entered the lobby, chattering and giggling. He saw a puffy, tear-stained face or two and felt bad for the girls. Ballet was hard, and Natasha was difficult to please. But as she'd explained to him, she wasn't going to move girls onto pointes if they weren't ready. She didn't want any damaged ankles, not in her school!

Laura all but flew out of the room, launching herself at Bucky, giggling wildly as he swung her up into his arms.

"Papa!"

He heard her chattering excitedly, and Bucky's quieter responses behind him. Sarah followed after, looking a little disappointed, but overall taking it well. She could still work over the summer if she wanted, but Steve had a feeling that she wouldn't be returning to the school in the fall. She wrapped her skinny arms around him, flopping her head into his stomach and rubbing it there.

"Hey, Sare-Bear," he said, hugging her back and petting her hair gently.

"Hey Dad," she sighed, pressing her chin into his midline.

"I'm sorry to hear you didn't get moved up."

"That's okay. Laura works real hard. I don't like the exercises."

"And that's okay too. You'll find your thing."

Sarah nodded. "Can we get ice cream to soothe my broken heart?"

Steve was unable to suppress the laugh. That was exactly the kind of thing Peggy would have said. "Sure. But after dinner? I'm sure Bucky cooked something for us."

"No, now."

"Okay, now sounds good too."

He heard Bucky snort behind him and grinned. He hadn't put up much of a fight, but he figured ice cream was a good idea.

The moms had left now, but Steve knew this wouldn't be the end of things. Nonetheless, things were going to be okay. Bucky really did make the best casserole he'd ever tried, and if any of them tried to bully Steve out of the PFA they had another thing coming.

Steve took Bucky's spare hand, Bucky still balancing Laura on his hip despite how tall she was getting, put Sarah's in his other hand, and walked them out towards the parking lot.

*

Summer came and went. The lease on Bucky’s place ended, but it didn't matter because he'd already been living with Steve for a few months. So they'd moved a little faster than normal. Things were great, and Bucky was happy. After his meltdown a few months back, things improved. He and Steve talked, a lot. Sometimes, he woke up in the morning and cried into his pillow. But then Steve would wake up, pull him in close, and let him know that it was okay to cry.

It… it wasn't always easy. Some days were harder than others. Some days he did his physical therapy and little else. But it was okay. It was nice to sometimes have those days where he was allowed to be a little broken. Steve, and Hill, said he didn't have to always hold it together. And so he let himself have it, every so often.

The new school year started and Laura and Sarah moved into middle school. Laura kept doing her ballet, Natasha saying that she exhibited a rare blend of incredible natural talent, and a fierce determination to be her very best. Sarah didn't, instead floundering through a number of hobbies, trying to figure out what she liked best. Other than arguing, which, well, she got that one from her father.

But now? Things were good. Steve didn't have to work as many ridiculous hours, although some weeks he got a little busy. But he was never at work past six, unless he got caught up in New York.

And before he knew it, they'd been together a year.

He couldn't be happier if he tried, honestly.

For their anniversary, they arranged for the girls to have a sleepover with Esihle, and went out to dinner the next town over. Bucky let Steve drive the Camaro again, and used it as an excuse to drink more than one glass of wine with dinner, making him feel soft and gooey inside.

And finally back at home, he had Steve laid out in front of him, and was kissing every breath out of him. Bucky lay his body across Steve's, pinning his hands above his head. But instead of kicking Steve’s legs open like he normally did, Bucky straddled his hips, grinding down a little. Steve gave a soft whine, tilting his head back and letting Bucky attack it with his mouth.

Bucky ground down a little harder, mentally preparing himself. He could do this. He could. With his metal hand still pinning Steve's wrists, he reached over to the night stand, grabbed the lube. Steve instinctively moved to spread his legs, but Bucky shook his head. Steve's mouth fell open a little in surprise and then shut. Steve nodded resolutely, holding himself very still.

He could do this.

Bucky had prepared himself a little earlier in the day, had stretched himself out to four fingers when he could take his time, to see if he'd panic. He'd been okay, had even enjoyed himself a little. And really, that was what this was about. He wanted to enjoy himself. He wanted to get over the fear, yes, but more than that, he wanted to enjoy this with Steve. It used to be something he had enjoyed, but it had been taken away from him over and over again. But somehow, being their anniversary, he hoped they could share it.

Bucky knew he was playing with fire. If he fucked it up, he'd feel like he'd ruined their anniversary, but… he had a good feeling.

He and Steve had tried this before. A few times. Bucky had been sure time and time again he'd be ready, and it would be okay, but… he hadn't. Steve had been understanding. If he couldn't do it this time, it would be okay and they'd just try again in another few months.

They'd make it work.

The hand on Steve's wrists came away, but Steve stayed put, watching him with dilated pupils and a rapt expression as Bucky stretched himself out. The angle was awkward, hovering over him like this, but he felt momentary flashes of pleasure. He saw Steve clench and unclench his fists, swallow. Steve looked painfully hard, even though he was surely having some fears.

"God, you look incredible," Steve rasped.

Bucky gave him a breathless grin, and finally withdrew his fingers. He poured more lube over Steve's cock, making Steve's hips twitch and his stomach clench.

"Don't move without my permission," Bucky growled, reminding Steve that he was still in charge. Steve swallowed again, nodding furiously. Bucky buried a hand in his hair and gave him a deep biting kiss before lining himself up over Steve's cock. Finally, he sat back on his heels and lowered himself down. It didn't hurt, and he was relaxed enough, stretched out enough from his play this afternoon and his stretching then.

The wine also helped. But they'd made it this far before.

He exhaled shakily. His heart was pounding, but… he was okay still. He could continue for now.

By the time Bucky bottomed out he was shaking. He couldn't tell if it was with fear or pleasure, or both. Steve just kept watching him, hands twitching like he desperately wanted to touch Bucky. Bucky didn't give him permission, though. He needed to remember he was in control here. He leaned forward and kissed Steve, rolling his hips slightly as he did. Steve moaned into his mouth.

Bucky gave a few more slow rolls of his hips, testing the waters. Still good. He was still okay, still safe. This was Steve. Steve, whom he loved, and adored. Steve who looked positively overwhelmed with lust and pleasure and more love than he knew what to do with. He moved slowly, carefully, increasing the movements a little more with each thrust, gaining more confidence slowly.

"Okay," he breathed, biting his lower lip, not slowing the movement of his hips at all. "You can touch."

Steve pulled his hands quickly away from the bedhead, going to Bucky's thighs, gripping gently. "Oh my god." Bucky wasn't sure if it was his thighs, or Steve's hands, that were sweating.

"Can I move?" Steve asked, eyes rolling back a little. Bucky didn't stop moving, even as he thought. Little shots of pleasure were racing up his spine, making his body tingle. He was safe. He was okay. This was… this was so good. Finally, Bucky nodded, and hauled Steve into a sitting position, kissing him deeply.

Every movement felt like a breath, something in him freeing. He wasn't scared. He wasn't scared. He was enjoying this. It felt good, so damn good, and he was sharing this with Steve. Steve looked at him with wonder in his eyes, his eyes rolling back as Bucky moved harder, riding him so hard he was pretty sure he was seeing stars.

Steve met him in kind, and they eventually fumbled out a rhythm, both groaning. God, Bucky had missed this, had missed more than being fucked, but the safety of sharing it with another person. Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck, clutching at his back, ass, thighs. Bucky panted, trying to muffle his sounds in Steve's unfairly broad shoulders, still in the habit of being quiet, biting at the flesh there and making Steve gasp and whine happily.

"I love you," Bucky managed to get out, over and over again, a litany of adoration. Steve touched his face, kissing him like he needed it more than he needed air, murmuring words that Bucky couldn't make out, but didn't need to, to know.

When he came, Steve's hand between them jerking him off, the world went white. Steve came shortly after, Bucky a little limp over him, but fighting to make sure it was good for Steve to the very last second. Steve lowered him to the bed once he was done, had recovered enough for them both to move. And then, he was held.

He felt soft, and a bit floaty, body flooded with endorphins and even a bit of adrenaline. He had done it. After so many failed attempts, he'd done it. He'd be able to to it again. He'd be able to share this with Steve. He felt a tear or two leak from the corner of his eyes, but the pillow absorbed them. Steve's arms were warm around him, and he let himself just… lie there for a bit.

Laura was safe. Steve was safe. Sarah was safe.

Bucky was safe. And more importantly, finally, he was happy.