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Four months, six days, and thirteen hours.
That's how long ago Steve had left.
The last time Bucky had seen him.
Bucky had just been in the final stages of his heat, riding out the last light waves of it with Steve wrapped around him, holding him safe.
Then Steve had gotten the call. Something world ending, because when was it ever not world ending. And nothing else could have concinced an Alpha to leave his Omega that close to the end of a heat.
But it was all to protect Bucky in the end. Everything Steve ever did was for Bucky.
Though that didn't stop it from hurting. From having Bucky's heart clench every second of every day, worried and lonely.
Praying for Steve to be safe and to return home. Wishing he could go out and help.
Wishing that these types of things didn't even happen in the first place.
He made due. He had to.
Because otherwise he'd just fall apart at the seams.
It was rare that Steve found the time to answer Bucky's messages, too busy saving the world, but he tried as often as he could.
He held back his pain, his longing. Texted Steve that he was okay and that he just hoped that his Alpha was doing alright.
Of course Steve didn't believe him. He knew Bucky too well. But Steve was doing the same thing. Putting on the act of being fine, telling Bucky that he missed him and nothing more. Nothing deeper.
Because then what? What could they actually change?
When Steve had left, Bucky had cried for about ten hours straight. His body aching and soul screaming from being torn away from his mate in the last moments of his heat.
He hadn't gotten out of bed for the rest of the day, staying naked and curled up in the lingering smell of Steve, exactly the way he had been left.
It took him a whole week to muster up the energy to clean the mess of his heat, reluctantly washing the blankets and covers and himself, removing the last scent of his Alpha.
He showered with Steve's shampoo and dressed himself in one of Steve's hoodies and joggjng pants.
It soothed the ache ever so slightly.
He was okay after that. As okay as he could be while worrying for his Alpha on the other side of the world, obsessively checking the news. Keeping them running in the background on TV all day long.
He also took up his hobby of compulsive baking again.
During his recovery in Wakanda, he had learned to bake in his little hut.
Had come to love it.
It was relaxing, helped him focus on something productive instead of putting all his energy into worrying and treading circles into the carpet.
It definitely helped now. Made him feel like Steve was still there, about to waltz in and take over the decorating part with his artistic skills.
Bucky took a gander at it, but they never came out as pretty as when Steve was actually there.
Sometimes the sweet scent of the cookies or pie overtook him, made him cry in loneliness or even throw up, especially in this last month during Christmas time.
He hadn't known that missing a mate would be this painful.
And the holiday season definitely didn't help.
This was when they were supposed to go to bake gingerbread men together, go to Christmas markets, buy a tree, all the stuff that couples do in December.
All the stuff they did back in the day.
Maybe Steve had been right back then.
Steve had been so frail and sick that he had refused to bond with Bucky before the war.
He had been so sure that he'd drop dead before thirty and didn't want Bucky to go through the physical and mental pain of losing a mate. Didn't want him to end up widowed and unwanted.
That added to the fact that he tried to keep Bucky's secret, something that couldn't have been possible if the two of them mated.
Because despite everyone now knowing that Bucky was an Omega, back in the day his parents had decided right after presenting with his first heat, that they'd put their son on blockers for the rest of time.
Being a male Omega was rare and not something that was very popular. People didn't like male Omegas. Bucky had no idea why, but that was just how the world worked.
Probably something about ruining the masculinity that male Alphas tried to portrait.
As if any Omega actually enjoyed their toxicity and didn't just search for the sweet ones with an actual brain. Like Steve.
But thanks to those types of men, it had been safer for him to pretend that he was a Beta. He was still thankful to his parents for that decision, however much he wished that it hadn't been necessary in the first place. Who knew what would have happened to him.
It was bad enough that people bullied and beat up Steve for who he was. An Alpha that presented very late and that didn't have any of the stereotypical traits of a "real" Alpha.
There was no telling what they would have done to Bucky.
But when Steve had finally presented, Bucky had known right away why the universe had made him an Omega.
Because he was meant to be Steve's. And Steve was meant to be his.
Truthfully, they would've stayed together and lived out Steve's life either way, no matter what designation either of them had gotten.
But that moment had felt like destiny, an explanation for why the world would curse him like this.
Then during the war, when Steve's physical form finally matched his inner one and his clock of life had been reset, Bucky had been so happy.
Well, upon first setting his eyes on the new Steve, he had been furious.
Rightfully so.
What the hell had Steve been thinking, subjecting himself to some experimental science, not caring about the outcome. How could he be so damn reckless with his life?
He shouldn't have been there, saving Bucky.
But then again, Bucky shouldn't have been there either, halfway across the world from home and strapped to some mad scientist's table.
He shouldn't have been in the war in the first place.
Omegas weren't allowed in the military. Even now in the modern time, they had a hard time getting in and being treated with respect.
But because Bucky had been pretending to be a Beta his whole life and his parents had forged the designation papers, he had been drafted and couldn't have gotten out of it without revealing the truth.
And that had never been an option.
The only good thing about the military had been that scent blockers and rut suppressants for Alphas had been standard issue. So he was able to steal some of them when needed. They weren't designed for heats, but they worked well enough.
They really had wanted to be together in the war, when Steve had finally joined him with his new body and strength. But that had been even more of a deathwish than back before the war.
But they had planned their lives either way.
Dreamed about what they'd do after the war. Settle down in a quiet place somewhere, finally bond and become mates. And eventually build a family, a dog and cat and a little mini version of themselves. Maybe two.
It was something that Bucky before the war could have hardly imagined, hadn't even dared to wish for. No matter how desperately his heart had wanted it.
Becoming a father along side Steve.
Bucky couldn't imagine anything better. Steve would make such a good dad.
He was already the best mate a man could wish for. So gentle and attentive and handsome. Just overall the best person to ever exist.
And he knew that Steve had shared his dream from the moment he had received his designation.
They had lost so much time.
First before the war, then during, and then Hydra took Bucky. And Steve, the absolute idiot, drowned himself in the ocean because he believed Bucky to be dead.
Finally Steve had the ability to live and then threw it all out the window because he'd rather die than be without Bucky.
Very dramatic but also very fitting for Steve.
And to be honest, Bucky wasn't sure if he wouldn't have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed.
They had spent a hundred years apart, waiting for the right moment.
The second Bucky had regained his memories and had been freed of his own trapped mind, the two of them had finally, finally bonded.
Took them long enough.
And nothing had ever felt more right.
Until they found out that Hydra had stolen much more than time from them.
The doctors had told them that the chance of Bucky ever bearing a child was basically zero.
A century of suppressants, torture, electrocution and cryo freeze will do that to a body.
It had broken him. And Steve.
Their dreams shattered just like that.
It had taken a lot of time to come to terms with the news.
They still weren't fine. Of course they weren't.
But they had been talking about adopting a kid in the coming years.
And that Steve would finally give up the shield for good.
He already had, as well as he could. Only going out when the world was about to end.
But they deserved their peace. Fully.
Tomorrow was Christmas.
Bucky was once again making cookies, when he suddenly felt ill again.
The cinnamon and sugar twisting his stomach even though he had been crawing it all day long.
Clapping a hand infront of his mouth, he dropped the ball of dough on the counter and rushed across the apartment to the bathroom.
He barely made it before the contents of his stomach emptied themselves into the toilet.
It was a lot. He had been so hungry lately and just randomly in the mood for a lot of different foods, despite the constant nausea.
And he wasn't going to let anyone tell him that he didn't deserve to try whatever and how much food he wanted.
After seventy years of surviving brainwashing, he deserved whatever he wanted.
At least that's what Steve told him.
And he trusted Steve.
Right now he wished he didn't always listen to him. Because he really regretted the four meals and five snacks he already had today.
He was a supersoldier, he needed his energy. Sue him.
So what if he gained a bit of weight lately. And if his stomach had gotten a bit softer.
He was sure Steve was going to love it.
Though nobody liked a beefy, muscular Omega like he was.
Well, Steve did.
Steve loved him however he looked, which was why he knew that Steve wouldn't mind if he let himself go a bit.
But God did he hate himself for it right now, because otherwise he wouldn't be puking his soul out.
Why was he so hungry all the time? Why was he so nauseous? Was it all because he missed Steve and just needed his Alpha to come and make everything right again? Was he really that pathetic?
Why the hell was he throwing up all the damn time lately?
He inhaled sharply and raised his head from where he was bowed over the toilet, his hands gripping the seat so tightly that the porcelain cracked.
Swallowing and scrunching his nose at the rancid taste, he slowly pivoted his head down to his stomach.
Wide eyed, he reached out with shaking fingers and gently touched his fingertips to the soft stomach under his shirt.
It couldn't be, right?
Breathing stutteringly, he slid over to the sink and pulled open the lowest drawer.
He searched through the mess for a bit until he found what he was looking for.
Tony had given it to them as a gift, a joke really, before he knew what was going on.
They didn't exactly go around and tell everyone they knew that they might never have their own child.
But they also hadn't brought it over their hearts to throw it away.
Just in case.
His hands trembled when he found the pregnancy test and took it out of its packaging.
He didn't want to give himself hope.
He really didn't.
But it all made sense, didn't it?
And if anyone could get him pregnant, it was a supersoldier with probably superpowered sperm or something.
That sounded weird.
But it would make sense.
He followed the instructions of the test exactly as written and then sat down on the toilet seat, carefully setting the thing down on the countertop to let it work.
Just a few more minutes and he'd know the truth.
Until he'll either be the happiest man on earth or absolutely destroyed once again.
He really wished Steve was here.
His hands were folded in front of his face, the tip of his thumb stuck between his teeth as he gnawed on the nail. His leg bounced up and down with nerves as he didn't even dare to blink, too scared to miss the moment.
He held his breath, mostly subconsciously, while his heart pounded in his chest. He could hear the heartbeat rush in his ears.
With a jolt he jumped to his feet, lifting the test up right in front of his eyes to make sure they weren't tricking him.
A soft huff of a laugh escaped him, tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes.
Was this real?
A faint second line appeared slowly more and more clearly.
Biting his lip, he felt his chin tremble and a crooked smile crossed his face.
He sank to the floor, pressing the test to his heart as a sob tore out of him.
His second hand clutched the floor, giving him stability as he threatened to fall forward, crying with the biggest grin on his face that made his cheeks begin to hurt.
He stayed there crying his heart out for about another hour before he managed to get up.
Then he slowly moved around the empty apartment, packing the test ever so gently in a little box and put a bow on top. He didn't care if Steve came back two months after Christmas, he was getting this as a gift.
He put the present under the Christmas tree, which he had to buy and decorate all by himself this year.
It had felt so stupid at the time. Because what was the point of getting a tree if you weren't going to celebrate Christmas.
But now he was determined to keep this tree up until Steve came back. However long it took.
He really hoped it wouldn't take no time at all.
He didn't want to miss another single second that they could spend together as a family.
Afterwards, he continued his cookies. The dough had dried a bit where he had left it carelessly on the counter, but it was fine.
And he didn't get nauseous for the rest of the process, which was a plus.
"I'm sorry for getting mad so much, you can make me sick all you want, as long as you're healthy," he whispered, stroking a flour coated hand over his stomach.
And he meant every word. He didn't care if he had to spend the rest of this pregnancy curled up next to the toilet, puking his guts out. This little one was all worth it.
He decorated the cookies, the designs looking a lot prettier than the first time he'd done this. He made two of the gingerbread men into Steve and himself, one getting blond hair and blue eyes, while the other one got a metal arm and brown hair.
Then there was a smaller cookie that he cut out himself earlier, since there were no premade cutter forms that small. It were a little crooked, but it was okay. Then, just symbolically, the little guy got a mini metal arm and blond hair, just to show the mix between the two bigger ones.
He felt a bit ridiculous doing it, but sue him. He was happy.
If he wanted to make a little mini gingerbread version of him and Steve with their baby, he was going to. He was a free man.
A little sweaty by the end of it, he dropped on the couch with an exhausted huff. He curled up under a fluffy blanket and snacked on a few of the faceless cookies.
Their little gingerbread family was left on top of the rest of the cookies on a platter in the middle of the sofa table, smiling happily up at him.
"I wish Stevie was here to meet you," Bucky mumbled, absently caressing his stomach under the blanket.
Letting himself be lulled into comfort by the background noise of the news and the scent of warm cookies wafting through the apartment, he fell asleep with a small smile on his face.
"Bucky, hey sweetheart," a deep voice said softly as something gently shook his shoulder.
Sucking in a sleepy breath, he blinked his eyes open.
Suddenly he was wide awake.
Sitting on the edge of the couch and looking down on him sat an angel. Okay, it was Steve, but the description fit either way.
The Alpha was dressed in a cozy sweater and his hair was a bit tousled in the cutest way, like he had let it dry in the wind. Gently stroking his knuckles over Bucky's cheek and pushing a few errand strands behind his ear, Steve smiled tiredly down on him.
"Stevie," Bucky breathed out, scrambling up and throwing his arms around the other man's shoulders, burying his nose into his neck. Right over the bond bite.
Big strong arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer, as Steve too tucked his nose into the scent gland on the juncture of Bucky's neck. The spot where they had united their love, teethmarks clearly visible.
The smell of clean, sun-dried linen sheets and warmth and home engulfed him and overwhelmed his senses.
For the first time in four months, he felt whole again.
He breathed in deeply, feeling himself melt in Steve's arms as they simply held each other.
"I missed you so much," Bucky said, his voice muffled against the soft fabric of Steve's sweater.
Steve's hand moved in comforting, small circles over Bucky's back.
"Me too," Steve answered quietly and lovingly.
"You smell so sweet," Steve then mumbled, cradling the back of Bucky's head in a big palm and holding him close.
"I made cookies," Bucky responded shortly, a small smile on his lips.
He knew it wasn't just the cookies.
Pregnant Omegas always had a special scent to them, sweeter and amplified.
They held each other for an indistinct amount of time, simply taking in the feeling of finally being together again.
When they eventually pulled away, both their cheeks were flushed and happy.
"I got something for you," Bucky smiled, kicking off the blanket and wandering over to the Christmas tree.
"Buck, I can open a pair of socks tomorrow," Steve chuckled, but sat up straighter as Bucky returned with the gift in his hands.
"Trust me, you don't wanna wait for this one," Bucky grinned cryptically.
Steve raised his eyebrow, but grabbed the little box.
After untying the bow, he lifted the top.
Bucky bit his lip, watching the expressions cross over Steve's face with giddy anticipation.
Steve's mouth fell open a fraction as he looked into the box. For a moment, he simply stared.
Then he reached out with lightly quivering fingers and pulled the pregnancy test out.
Tears gathered in Steve's eyes as he scanned the test, his mouth opening and closing a few times.
Matching tears wavered in Bucky's eyes when Steve finally looked up from where he was sitting.
"You're- you're serious?" Steve managed eventually, lower lip trembling.
Bucky simply nodded, a teary, sheepish smile on his lips.
He yelped in surprise when Steve suddenly shot up from his seat and encircled Bucky's waist, lifting him up and spinning him around a few times.
Puffs of something that was a mix of a laugh and a sob met his neck where Steve had buried his face.
Bucky squeezed back, wrapping his arms tightly around Steve's neck and inhaling the scent of happy and proud Alpha.
Steve finally set him down again, keeping him close and framing Bucky's face with two big palms as he began to place kisses on every free inch.
Bucky laughed softly, tears rolling out of his eyes. Steve immediately kissed the tears off his cheeks, though the man was crying himself.
"I love you, I love you so much," Steve muttered against his Omega's skin before connecting their lips.
Bucky closed his eyes, his heart racing like it was their first kiss. He pressed back, passionately but still sweet.
They poured all their love into it, acknowledging the things they didn't dare say out loud.
The heartbreak and pain of their past, the fears of what was to come.
Of losing their hope.
"When did this even- I don't-" Steve whispered against his lips after pulling back, breathless and overwhelmed.
"Must've been right when you left. I felt sick these last few months, I thought my body just missed you or something. I found out literally only last night," Bucky explained, shaking his head. He still couldn't believe all this.
Steve observed Bucky's face intently, sniffling with a smile and pushing Bucky's hair repeatedly behind his ear. Just wanting to touch.
"I really wish I could have been here," Steve says.
Bucky grabs Steve's hand and pulls it down between their bodies and places it on his stomach.
Steve inhales sharply and looks down. There might not be anything to feel yet except a slight softness to Bucky's stomach, but the implication of the gesture was enough to bring fresh tears to Steve's eyes.
Bucky kept Steve's hand covered with his own palm, feeling the warmth and the slight tremble.
"You're here now."