Work Text:
Bucky was pretending to read his book. He had started off reading it for real, sitting on the bed that they turned into a sofa during the day, propped up on a pile of mismatched cushions. Steve was at the small table, hunched over his sketchbook, pencil in hand.
It was nice to see Steve so happy. It hadn't been easy for him since they'd left school. Bucky had found work almost straight away, but Steve had struggled to find somebody willing to take a chance on him.
He had so much to offer, but his health meant he had been overlooked, time and time again. It had hurt Bucky's heart to see how disappointed he was every time he got knocked back. To watch as the light in his eyes faded.
But the art classes had changed everything. They had given Steve a purpose, boosted his self esteem. And Bucky knew he was biased, but Steve had talent - real talent. The classes didn't come cheap, but they were worth every penny.
Bucky had managed to pick up some extra shifts, and while Steve had protested at that a little bit, he'd agreed to let Bucky pay. He didn't realise that Bucky would have happily given up his last cent to make Steve happy. He'd have willingly given up everything he had if it meant he got to see those blue eyes shining again.
And that was the reason Bucky had found himself reading the same paragraph over and over again. Because out of the corner of his eye, Bucky had become aware that Steve kept looking at him. Not for long, just little glances here and there, before returning his attention to his drawing. And once Bucky had noticed that, he'd found it hard to concentrate.
It was nice, knowing that Steve was studying him, feeling his eyes on him. He could be drawing anything right now, but he'd chosen Bucky. He'd thought Bucky was worth putting down on paper.
It was kind of intimate. Not in the way Bucky wanted to be intimate with Steve. That was something Bucky was keeping to himself. He'd been living here for a few months now, and he didn't intend to risk losing that by doing something stupid.
As much as he wanted more, so much more, he'd take what he could get. Living with Steve, spending time with him, sharing his bed - that was more than he'd ever dared hope for. It was enough for him. Kind of.
Eventually he gave up trying to read, and started playing a little game with Steve. Steve didn't know, of course. Every time Steve looked down at his sketchbook, Bucky would watch him. As soon as his eyes lifted, Bucky turned his gaze back to his book. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.
But it wasn't easy, tearing his eyes away from Steve. And so it was only a matter of time before he was too slow to look away, and they made eye contact. Steve smiled shyly.
"What?"
"How's it going? The sketch?"
Steve glanced down, before looking back at Bucky.
"Ok, I guess. I'm still learning but I think I'm getting there."
"I'm sure you're doing great. Can I see?" He tried not to sound too eager but he was itching to see the drawing, to see himself as Steve saw him.
"No." Steve's eyes widened slightly. "I mean.. not yet. It's not... I'm just practicing really."
"Come on, I bet it's real good. I'd like to see it."
Bucky stood and moved towards Steve, who quickly picked up the sketchbook, holding it against his chest protectively.
Bucky was intrigued. Steve wasn't usually so secretive about his art. Normally he was happy to let Bucky watch him working.
"How are you going to be a famous artist if you won't let anyone see your stuff?"
A flush was spreading across Steve's cheeks. He looked flustered. It was adorable.
"It's not that Buck. It's... It's not finished."
"Why don't you want me to see?"
Steve started to turn away, and Bucky took the opportunity to close the gap between them, curling an arm around Steve's waist and plucking the sketchpad from his hands.
"No, Bucky, don't." Steve tried to grab the book but Bucky was taller and easily held it out of his reach.
"Give it back, Bucky!"
Bucky didn't really intend to look, he was just teasing, but then he saw Steve's face as he desperately tried to snatch it back and realised he wasn't laughing. He looked upset.
The guilt hit him hard. He knew how Steve had been bullied, he'd witnessed it enough times. He'd been the one to put a stop to it in the end.
And if he remembered it, he sure as hell knew Steve hadn't forgotten. And now here was Bucky, doing the exact same thing. Just because he wasn't doing it to be cruel, it didn't mean he wasn't as bad as the bullies. Worse, because Steve trusted him.
"Sorry, Stevie," he said lowering the book. At that same moment, Steve reached out to grab it, pushing against Bucky, who still had an arm around him.
As he fought to keep his balance, the book tumbled out of his hand, falling to the floor and landing at their feet.
Silently cursing himself, Bucky bent down to retrieve the book. He meant to give it back, he wasn't planning to look. But the book was open, the drawing was right there, and he couldn't help glancing at it.
It was as good as he'd expected. Better. It was a rough sketch, not fully shaded, but it was obviously him. Steve had caught his likeness perfectly, sitting on the bed, concentrating on his book.
But that wasn't what caught Bucky's eye. Because there was something else about the picture. Something that stood out.
"Stevie, why am I naked?" He took a closer look at the sketch. It was tasteful, his private parts obscured by his leg, but he was most definitely nude. He could see the curve of his ass, every one of his muscles clearly defined. He wasn't sure whether to be offended, flattered or amused.
When he raised his eyes, he could see that Steve was mortified. But his eyes were defiant.
"I used artistic licence," he said quietly.
Bucky couldn't help laughing at that.
"You used artistic licence to take off my clothes?"
That won him a smile from Steve.
"It's not a dirty picture, Buck. It's art. Life drawing, capturing the beauty of the human form."
"You saying you think my form's beautiful?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, trying to sound flippant even as his heart starting beating a little bit faster.
Steve somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of scarlet.
"We're studying it in class, Bucky. We were supposed to have a model, but they can't get anyone to do it."
"I'm not surprised." Bucky couldn't imagine anyone voluntarily stripping in front of a room full of strangers. He couldn't think of anything worse.
"They'd pay you for it." Steve was looking at him, his eyes full of hope. For a moment Bucky stared at him, trying to convince himself that he'd misunderstood. Because it looked and sounded very much as if Steve was suggesting that he should volunteer.
"What? No way, Stevie." Now it was Bucky's turn to blush. "I'm not doing it, Steve."
"They really need someone. It's easy money, you just have to stand there."
"Yeah, with my junk on display to a room full of strangers. What's wrong with you, Stevie? Why the hell would you think I'd want to do that?"
"Come on, Buck. It's an important part of the course, I need to practice."
"No. Not happening. I mean it. Maybe if it was just you, but not in front of a bunch of random people." He hadn't really thought about what he was going to say before the words were out. And it was a bad choice of words.
"So, you'd do it if it was just me?"
"What? No!" He shook his head. There was no way in the world he was backing down. Nothing was going to change his mind.
"Please, Bucky."
And then Steve's eyes were on him, all big and blue and pleading. And it was hardly fair, because how was Bucky supposed to resist those eyes? And while his brain was distracted, his mouth was saying "sure" and Steve was hugging him, and it was too late to back out.
Anxious to make the most of his opportunity, Steve decided to use charcoal. Bucky had bought him a set for his birthday. That had been almost a year ago, but it had been expensive and Steve hadn't wanted to waste it.
The fact that he was using it now, for this, made Bucky nervous. He'd assumed it would be a quick pencil sketch, maybe half an hour or so. He could get through that.
But now, watching Steve setting up his equipment, Bucky was feeling a bit sick. He was already down to his vest and shorts, and he felt exposed enough. How was he going to feel when he had to take them off? When he had to take them off in front of Steve?
Not that he hadn't dreamt about being naked with Steve. He'd fantasised about that countless times. This hadn't been quite the scenario he'd had in mind though.
"Right, Buck. I'm ready." Steve looked at Bucky expectantly.
Bucky frowned. Surely he wasn't just going to stand there, staring?
"Well, look away, Stevie. Let me get ready."
Steve rolled his eyes, but he turned his back and Bucky pulled his vest over his head. As he stepped out of his shorts, he could feel the chill air on his groin.
He sat on the bed, feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life. It wasn't easy to position himself so that he at least kept a little bit of modesty, but he managed to place his arms and legs so that hopefully everything important was hidden.
"I'm ready." That was a lie. He was a long way from ready, but right then all he wanted was for this to be over.
When Steve turned to face him, Bucky suddenly found that he couldn't remember how to breathe. He swallowed, aware that his face was burning fiercely.
"Is this ok?"
Steve stared at him for a moment, his eyes visibly sweeping slowly down Bucky's body.
"Um." He cleared his throat. "Ah, yeah... that's good. That's... that's great." He took a deep breath, then sat at the table, studying the sticks of charcoal intently.
Once he started drawing, Steve was quickly lost in his own world. It left Bucky with nothing to do, nothing to look at apart from Steve.
So Bucky watched him, taking in the small frown of concentration, the way he looked up at Bucky through his eyelashes, the way the tip of his tongue played along his bottom lip. Every now and then he'd use his long slender fingers to gently stroke the paper, delicately rubbing at the charcoal.
It was torture.
After a few minutes, Bucky realised he was going to need a distraction. Because Steve was too damn beautiful, and that was going to have an effect on Bucky sooner or later. And there was no way he was going to be able to hide it, nothing standing between him and utter humiliation.
So he shifted his gaze to the ceiling and started running through his times tables in his head. It worked, sort of. He was still all too aware of Steve, but it was manageable.
After a while, he realised the scrape of charcoal had stopped. Hoping he was finally finished, he looked at Steve, who was grinning at him.
"What are you doing, Buck?" he asked.
"Um. Nothing." How long had Steve been watching him? Had he been doing something weird without realising it?
"What do you mean?"
"I can see your lips moving." He wasn't even trying to keep the amusement out of his eyes.
Bucky sighed.
"Sorry. It's just...I feel a bit awkward, you know?"
Steve thought for a moment. Then he stood, and started taking his shirt off.
"Steve? What the hell are you doing?" Bucky started to stand, realised there was no way he could move without revealing much more than he wanted to, and sat back down again.
Steve shrugged.
"Figured it might be easier if I was wearing less." He sat back down and turned his attention back to his drawing.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks Stevie. That's much better."
It wasn't. It was so much worse. Steve was mostly hidden behind the table, but Bucky could now see his shoulders, the top of his chest, his arms.
He'd known Steve forever, but Bucky had never seen him topless before. Even though they were living together, they'd always taken care to respect each other's privacy. And Steve was usually self conscious of his body. Normally he kept it covered.
But now he was half naked. And now all Bucky could think about was how prominent his collarbone was. How delicate it looked. How it would feel to take it gently between his teeth, to kiss it, to suck it, to run his tongue along it.
"You nearly done, Stevie?" His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears - he hoped Steve was concentrating too hard to notice.
"Yeah, nearly. Just a few more minutes."
He looked up and frowned.
"Can you tilt your head a little? I just need a little more light in your eyes."
"I'm sitting here butt naked, and you're worrying about my eyes?" He moved his head. "How's that?"
"No, a little more to the left. Not quite so high."
He tried again.
"No, that's not quite.. Hang on."
And then Steve was getting up. Moving towards him. Standing over him. Standing real close to him.
Resisting the urge to cover himself, Bucky sat still as Steve's hand cupped his chin. He swallowed dryly as his head was gently moved. Steve's other hand, the one smudged with charcoal, hovered over his chest, not quite touching him.
He could still feel it though. It felt like electricity running through his body. He tried to exhale, and his chest hitched, turning it into a sigh.
"You ok, Buck?" Steve murmured, his breath tickling Bucky's cheek.
"Uhm." It was the best he could do. He hoped Steve would put it down to the fact that he was still holding Bucky's chin. Steve's touch was unbearably light, almost caressing. Bucky could feel the goosebumps spreading across his skin.
"I think that's it, let me just..." Steve released his hold on Bucky's face and then he was right in front of him, inches away. At first his eyes were flicking over Bucky's face. And then they settled on Bucky's eyes. And he just stopped.
For a long time they both froze. The moment seemed to stretch out forever, as if the whole world had disappeared and there was nothing left apart from him and Steve.
Before he knew what he was doing, Bucky leaned forward, closing the small space between them, softly pressing his mouth against Steve's. It only lasted a second, their lips barely touching, before Bucky came to his senses and pulled back, his heart racing.
"Jeez, Stevie, I'm sorry." His blood ran cold. What had he done? Steve was looking at him, his eyes wide with shock. Bucky waited for his face to twist with disgust, for him to step back, shout, maybe hit him. He'd ruined everything, thrown it all away. He'd have to move out, leave Stevie behind.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Before he could finish the sentence, Steve was kissing him. Not a timid gentle kiss like before. A proper kiss.
Steve's lips were soft and warm, slightly parted, his breath hot and heavy against Bucky's mouth. After a moments hesitation, Bucky kissed him back, and then Steve's hands were on him, and his fingers were tangled in Steve's short hair. It was so much better than he'd ever dreamt it would be.
When they finally parted, he rested his forehead on Steve's, waiting for his heart to slow down a little. He could hear Steve panting softly.
He moved his head back, looking at Steve. He'd known him most of his life, loved him for nearly as long. He'd resigned himself to being friends, convinced himself he was happy with that.
And now he felt nervous. Terrified. Because there was something he needed to ask, and his whole future depended on the answer.
"Stevie, are you sure? I mean... is this really what you want?" He waited, biting his lip, hoping.
Steve looked at him, his eyes steady.
"It's all I've ever wanted, Buck."
And then they were kissing again. As Steve started to lean forward, pressing against him, Bucky could feel his body responding. He could feel the rough material of Steve's pants against his bare skin.
The urge to lay back on the bed, to pull Steve down on top of him, to lose himself, was almost overwhelming. But with every ounce of willpower he could find, he spoke, his lips still pressed against Steve's mouth.
"Uh, Steve?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm naked, Steve"
He could feel Steve's mouth curling into a smile.
"I know."
He started to move forward, but Bucky put his hands up, pushing Steve back slightly.
"Stevie, I don't want..."
Steve's face fell, his eyes suddenly full of doubt.
"You don't?" He frowned, starting to back away.
Bucky managed to grab his arms, pulling him back.
"No, no, I do want you. I do."
"Then what do you mean?"
Bucky took a deep breath.
"I want you Steve, but not like this. Not all rushed and hurried. I don't want our first time to be a quick fumble. I want...I want to take it slow."
"Slow?" Steve was studying his face. He was still flushed, his lips pink and bruised. He looked so vulnerable, so goddam sweet. Bucky could hardly stop himself from just giving in, laying back and letting things happen. But Steve deserved more. He deserved better than that. He was worth waiting for.
"I want to court you, Stevie."
Steve frowned.
"Court me? What do you mean?"
He looked so confused, Bucky had to hold back a laugh.
"I read it in a book. It means to win you over. Romance you."
"Romance me?" Steve was grinning now. "How you gonna romance me, Buck?"
Bucky ran a finger along Steve's cheekbone.
"I want to take you out. On dates. I want to get dressed up smart, treat you right. I want to kiss you, a lot, all the time. I want to...I want to make you happy, so happy Stevie. And then, when the time's right, when we're both ready, I want to take you to bed."
"We already share a bed." Steve was laughing now, his face glowing with happiness.
"I know, but..."
"Yeah, I get it Bucky. I'd like that. I'd like to be courted."
"It's what you deserve, Sweetheart." Bucky gave him a quick kiss. "Right, give me a minute, let me make myself respectable before I lose my resolve."
"Okay. I'll just put my things away. I won't look, I promise." He ran a hand through Buckys hair.
As he stepped back, he glanced at Bucky and giggled.
"What's so funny?" Bucky couldn't help smiling back.
"You should look in the mirror, Bucky." Steve held up his hand, his fingers and palm black with charcoal. Still laughing, he turned and walked to the sink.
Bucky looked down. He was covered in it, a black smudge right across his chest. He chuckled, shaking his head. And then he saw it.
It was blurry, hard to make out, but it was there. A handprint. Right by his heart. He put his hand over it, covering it with his own larger palm, and smiled to himself.
He glanced up at Steve, and his smile broadened.
He still couldn't believe it had happened, but he had the proof, right there under his hand. And even when he'd washed it off, when the charcoal was gone, it didn't matter. Because his heart would always belong to Steve. Forever. Till the end of the line.