Work Text:
It all started because Steve overestimated himself.
Okay. Maybe he just took one for the team. Fine.
Steve just didn’t like to waste shit, okay?
So, when they’d gotten an emergency distress signal and had been forced to pack their shit up ASAP, Steve hadn’t really thought too much about it before he took everyone’s bowls of whatever vaguely flavored briny water the army passed for soup and drained each of them in a few gulps so that they could pack without a mess.
Gabe stared at him for a beat too long as Steve wiped his mouth and shoved the tin bowls into his pack. “You could’ve just dumped them out.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. While that was true, it was the principle of the thing. “Why waste it? I need more food than you guys anyway.”
Dugan snorted. “I can’t believe you just called that shit food.”
“Let’s get a move on,” Bucky said anxiously, already on the balls of his feet. “We can yell at Steve while we’re on the move.”
Steve shot Bucky a little glare, and Bucky wrinkled his nose at him, so Steve finished helping the others pack up camp, and then they were on the move, following the distress signal.
The novelty of battle was still new, and equally new was the terror, although Bucky assured him with a tight expression that it would always feel new. Even so, Steve was a jumble of exhilaration and fear as they engaged with a Nazi squadron that had surrounded a stray Allied patrol.
Steve barked orders to the Howlies and hoped that the surrounded patrol would follow their lead.
Steve whirled around with his shield, cutting through the battlefield with bright colors and sharp arcs. Something about hand-to-hand combat was so intimate, forcing Steve to analyze his enemy to the core—enough to understand him so that he could fall into the steps of a dance, taking place as the lead by force to hopefully come out on top.
His shield was streaked with blood by the time he paused to catch his breath for half a second. A body thudded to the ground behind him, and Steve didn’t have to follow the line of the bullet to know that it was Bucky’s handiwork. He smiled wryly to himself and dove back into the thick of things.
But see.
Here was the thing about fighting.
Battlefields smelled like literal shit. Corpses emptied out their bowels. So, soldiers were accustomed to seeing bodily fluids other than blood.
But.
Steve had downed seven bowls of broth.
It had never occurred to Steve that this could be a problem before.
“All good, Cap?” Morita yelled from several meters away.
“I have to take a fucking piss!” Steve yelled back, kind of dumbfounded with how to handle this situation.
“Is that a fucking metaphor?” Morita demanded.
“Fuck you,” Steve said distractedly, and then fired his gun a few times. He had to pee. What the fuck.
“Hold it,” Falsworth suggested mildly as he leapt over to yank his favorite knife out of a Nazi’s jugular.
Steve couldn’t hold it. Steve had downed seven bowls of broth before they jogged over here.
There was a crackling over their radios before Bucky’s voice resounded. “I’ve been spotted. I’m gonna double back into the woods to lose them.”
“What?” Steve demanded, scrambling for his radio. “How many men are on you?”
“Cap—“ Morita warned. Steve ducked behind his shield.
There was no response from the radio, and Steve let out a violently lengthy stream of curses. “You guys hold down the fort. Falsworth is in charge.”
“Booooooo,” Dugan said.
“Barnes is probably fine,” Morita tried to say, reasonably.
Steve was not reasonable when it came to Bucky. “You guys’ve got this.” And then he sprinted in the direction of Bucky’s last known location.
Running made the pressure on his bladder worse, though. Steve tried his best to ignore it, but what the fuck was he supposed to do? Stop and take a leak on a tree? Bucky was in danger. He couldn’t think about the fact that he’d fucking downed seven bowls of broth.
It wasn’t difficult to follow the path that the Nazis pursuing Bucky had taken. Steve caught up to them silently and found only six men to put down.
He loaded two pistols and fired a few times, hitting one in the head, another in the chest, and another in the thigh. The other bullet missed. Fuck, were his hands shaking? He grabbed his shield and made quick work of the rest of them, although a few bullets grazed Steve in the process. It was nothing he hadn’t had before.
He yanked his shield out of the last man’s neck and reached for his radio. “Buck?”
Still no response.
Steve tore through the forest, scanning for any sign of Bucky. Eventually, he noticed everything had gone deceptively quiet and paused, waiting.
Someone leapt off a tree and landed on his back, and Steve was so surprised that he forgot he was apparently holding his pee.
“Fuck,” Steve groaned as he wrestled with the Nazi soldier. The Nazi got in a few hits and slit a cut across a few good inches of Steve’s throat before Steve overpowered him and threw him against the tree trunk. The soldier blinked in a daze, but then a bullet flew and hit him in the forehead.
Steve spun around. Bucky leaned heavily against another tree, his rifle pointed grimly at the Nazi.
Steve rushed over and checked Bucky for wounds while Bucky scowled.
“I was nicked in the calf,” Bucky said quietly. “Not too bad. He almost cut your throat.” Bucky reached up and touched the already-healing cut, his eyes alight with murder.
Steve let out a shaky breath and pressed their mouths together in a brief, bruising kiss. “You’re okay.”
Bucky put a hand on Steve’s chest. “Yeah.”
Bucky’s leg automatically nudged itself in between Steve’s thighs. Steve saw the moment Bucky frowned and glanced down.
“Your uniform is wet.”
“My uniform is wet,” Steve confirmed.
Bucky stared down, dumbfounded. “That’s not blood.”
“That’s not blood.”
Bucky blinked, very slowly. “The fuck?”
“It’s piss. I pissed myself.”
“What the fuck, Steve?” Bucky demanded, squirming away.
“Seven bowls of broth,” Steve explained, shrinking in on himself.
Bucky wrinkled his nose. “Fuck, don’t touch me. You’re all gross and wet and piss-covered and ewwwww—“
Steve took a step back, arching an eyebrow, too relieved to even consider embarrassment. “Fine.”
Bucky stared at him for a beat too long and reached out the second Steve took another step away. “Wait. Come back.”
Steve laughed, and Bucky leaned in to press a quick kiss to the cut on his neck, shooting the Nazi a dark look. “Let’s go,” Steve whispered. “Battle’s probably over.”
A slow, traitorous smirk spread across Bucky’s lovely mouth. He reached for his radio. “Hey, fellas, you wouldn’t believe what Steve did this time.”
Steve groaned while Bucky cackled. “I swear it won’t happen again.”
“Famous last words,” Bucky teased.
“There’s no way,” Clint was saying as Steve wandered into the common room. “Absolutely no way.”
Natasha was giving him her best deadpan expression.
“No way what?” Steve asked mildly, reaching for the coffee.
“There’s no way anyone would be able to drink three bottles of this disgusting Russian soda in under half a minute,” Clint explained.
“I’ve seen it,” Natasha said somberly.
“But you won’t do it,” Clint said stubbornly.
Natasha shrugged. “The soda is disgusting.”
“I’ll do it,” Steve piped up, taking a sip of coffee.
Clint and Natasha stared at him unblinkingly.
“You haven’t tried the soda,” Natasha said. “It’s worse than any torture I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
“Three bottles in less than half a minute,” Steve said. “How big are the bottles?”
Natasha gestured to the three party-sized bottles on the floor between her and Clint. Clint was staring at Steve in numb silence as he walked over and unscrewed the caps on each bottle.
They didn’t smell great, but they didn’t smell awful either.
“Ready?” Natasha asked, reaching for her watch.
“Wait!” Clint scrambled for his phone and whipped it out, no doubt recording him. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Steve nodded at Natasha and grabbed the nearest bottle. “Go,” Natasha said.
Twenty-six seconds later, Clint was cheering and Natasha was smiling as Steve coughed at his three empty bottles. That shit really was disgusting. But he’d proved a point, so in your face gross Russian soda.
“This is going on every social media account I own,” Clint said cheerfully.
“What is?” Bucky asked as he sauntered into the room.
Clint proudly showed Bucky the video, and Bucky rolled his eyes fondly before leaning heavily into Steve’s side.
“That was dumb shit,” Bucky informed him.
Steve dropped a kiss onto Bucky’s head. “It was hardcore.”
Bucky snorted while Natasha nodded in grim agreement.
Twenty minutes later, Steve was sipping his coffee again with Bucky’s feet in his lap while the Avengers sleepily made their way through breakfast when the Tower’s alarm blared.
“Great,” Tony grumbled, scrubbing at his eye irritably. “I thought we took the day off. Jarvis, why.”
The team assembled rapidly, but they were mostly grumpy. Steve and Bucky had plans to see the new Disney movie this morning. Fuck you, New York. Steve wanted to see a movie about a fish.
Bucky was muttering to himself as he yanked on his uniform too. “Fucking aliens and shit ruining my fucking fish movie date plans fucking fuck you.”
Steve sighed. “We’ll reschedule,” he murmured.
Bucky scowled and remained scowling even as Steve pecked a light kiss to his lips.
“Alright. Avengers Assemble and all that jazz,” Steve called, and they deployed in their usual formation.
This time, it was a cyborg army storming into Harlem, for some reason. Steve was kind of tuning out the villain’s monologue or whatever. He dished that duty over to a really whiny Tony and let the rest of them get to work on fighting the army.
The banter over the comms was even grumpy, lacking the usual fire, which was instead replaced with ironic cynicism.
Steve was decapitating a cyborg when he felt his bladder start to get tense.
Dread sank into the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore the feeling, but Steve had never ever been great at ignoring when he had to pee.
He closed his eyes for a moment and spoke into the comms. “Hey, Buck?”
Bucky hummed over the lines.
“Remember the fall of ’43?”
“I thought Robocop fell in ’44?” Tony said distractedly.
“Yeah,” Bucky said, ignoring Tony.
“Remember that one battle where we rescued that squadron, and you got nicked in the leg?”
“Um. Need a little more detail.”
Steve rolled his eyes, cutting through another mass of cyborgs. “I almost had my throat slit.”
“Oh. Right. That one.”
Steve cleared his throat. “Remember what happened after the battle?”
There was a beat of silence before Bucky cursed lowly. “Fuck, this is Barton’s fault.”
“What?” Clint demanded, his voice kind of disproportionately loud. “My hearing aids are being funky.”
Bucky ignored him too. “Hold it.”
“I can’t.”
“Steve, c’mon, they’re cyborgs. We’ll be done in fifteen minutes.”
“I dunno if I can last that long.”
“Are they having phone sex?” Tony asked in confusion. “I don’t think they’re doing it right.”
“Ew,” Sam said.
“Not the kind of imagery I was looking for,” Wanda confirmed.
“I found something cool that may help control the cyborgs,” Natasha piped up. “I’m gonna mess with it.”
“Are you sure about—?” Rhodey started, but he cut himself off. “Never mind.”
“Buck,” Steve said, more urgently. “It’s gonna happen.”
“Hold it,” Bucky hissed.
“This sounds like phone sex,” Tony repeated.
“I caaaan’t,” Steve nearly whined. He steeled himself for discomfort and said, “I’m just gonna let it go.”
“Don’t. Oh my god. I won’t touch you for the rest of the day.”
“Yes you will.”
“I won’t.”
Steve opened his mouth to continue arguing when several of the cyborgs surrounding him exploded. Steve was thrown back, and his body sailed through the air until he collided with the brick wall of a building.
Steve felt dizzy with his new concussion, groaning as he rolled over on the ground. He reached over to turn on his comm, but he’d lost it in the blast.
He’d pissed himself.
Steve let out a frustrated breath and tried to heave to his feet, but he’d very thoroughly snapped an integral bone in his leg, and he couldn’t quiet manage it. Maybe he’d just... lie here... for a minute.
He blinked a few times, and Bucky was leaning over him, his expression thunderous as he said something, but the world was still kind of distant noise-wise, so Steve just shook his head slightly until his hearing came back.
He reached up a hand to fist in Bucky’s jacket. “Buck,” he said roughly.
“Yeah, Stevie?” Bucky breathed, running his metal hand through Steve’s hair.
“I pissed my pants.”
“Three soda bottles and coffee,” Bucky despaired. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
“I was making a point,” Steve mumbled dazedly.
Bucky dropped their foreheads together for an instant before he turned to his own comm. “I’m taking Steve to the Tower.”
Steve tuned out the conversation and let Bucky help support the weight of his leg as they walked to the bus stop. Bucky usually didn’t like public transportation, but he’d always shoved his own shit aside in favor of Steve’s injuries, so Steve knew that if he brought it up, Bucky would only get angry. Plus, the bus was supposed to arrive in two minutes.
They took the bus to the Tower while the rest of the passengers mostly ignored them, though a handful of tourists gawked openly.
“Can they see that I pissed myself?” Steve asked at a whisper.
Bucky laughed lowly. “If they’re staring at your crotch.”
Steve hummed distantly. “You’re staring.”
“I’m an interested party,” Bucky said dryly as he surreptitiously continued to check Steve for injuries.
“Don’t tell anyone that I pissed myself.”
“Alright.” Bucky looked kind of annoyed suddenly. “Why didn’t you go to the bathroom before, you idiot?”
“I didn’t have to go then.”
“You drank three party-sized bottles of soda.”
Steve shrugged. “There was an emergency.”
“You could’ve taken a piss. There was time. It’s just cyborgs.”
“I’d rather piss myself during battle than let people get hurt,” Steve said, irritated.
Bucky huffed, equally annoyed. “You’re wrong on this one, pal.”
Steve shot Bucky a glare and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not.”
“Yeah? Prove it,” Bucky snapped sarcastically.
Steve raised his eyebrows, and Bucky’s mouth shut with a click.
“Never mind.”
As if Steve was gonna let that challenge go.
A week later and Steve was totally injury-free and has seen the fish movie with Bucky.
Steve was watching a documentary about trash when Bucky walked into their apartment, his eyes alight.
Steve watched him warily as Bucky walked over to stand in front of Steve, his hands behind his back.
“What?”
Bucky grinned. “I got you something.”
Steve’s wariness started to soften, and he smiled. “Oh?”
Bucky’s grin widened, and he handed Steve a crudely wrapped present. “Happy one-week anniversary since you pissed yourself and broke your leg and got a concussion all at once.”
“Thanks,” Steve huffed dryly as he tore into the wrapping paper.
When his gift was exposed, he stared at it for a moment, and then arched a single eyebrow at Bucky.
Bucky collapsed into laughter as Steve examined the package of adult diapers.
“Get it,” Bucky gasped, “Because you pee your pants and you’re old.”
“Twice,” Steve sighed. “It’s happened twice.”
“Adult diapers,” Bucky whispered to himself before dissolving into renewed giggles.
And then Steve had an idea.
He offered Bucky a slow, sweet smile and tucked the package under his arm. “Thanks, Buck. I love it.”
Bucky threw him a vaguely suspicious look, but he was still giggling a little bit, so he didn’t put much effort into it.
Steve slid the package into the cabinet under the sink and smiled to himself in the mirror.
Bucky kissed his way down Steve’s chest and hooked a metal finger into his waistband. Steve lifted his hips by way of permission, and Bucky tugged Steve’s sweatpants off in one fluid motion.
And then he faltered.
“What.” His voice was so blank that Steve’s lips twitched despite his effort to keep a neutral expression.
“What?” Steve echoed innocently.
“What are you wearing.”
“Oh, these?” Steve asked slowly, looking down at the adult diaper.
“These,” Bucky repeated.
“I just really like your gift, Buck.”
Bucky scowled and sat up, pointing accusingly at the adult diaper. “You killed my boner.”
“Babe,” Steve said.
“Don’t you ‘babe’ me. You’re the baby here. You’re wearing a diaper.”
Steve bit on his lip to keep from laughing. “You got them for me.”
“I was making a point!” Bucky protested.
Steve pouted exaggeratedly. “But it was a present.”
“Take them off,” Bucky begged. “Please.”
“I killed your boner, though. And I don’t want to piss myself again.”
“Steeeeeeve,” Bucky groaned, flopping down onto the bed next to him. “I can’t even look at you.”
Steve snorted. “I’m just enjoying my present.”
“Stop enjoying it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Bucky stood up and made the I’m watching you gesture as he retreated for the door. “That better be gone when I come back.”
Steve was standing on his tiptoes to reach the top shelf when the door opened. He heard Bucky make his way through the apartment until he was in the kitchen. And then the footsteps stopped dead.
“What.”
“Hey, Buck.”
Bucky stared at Steve blankly. Steve pretended nothing was out of the ordinary as he dumped some sugar into a bowl. “What,” Bucky repeated.
“You hungry?”
“Why.”
Steve was still wearing nothing besides the adult diaper. And Bucky was staring at the offending apparel like he wanted to set it on fire. “Dinner is generally served around this time, so I assumed—“
“Why,” Bucky said again, walking over and tugging at the adult diaper.
“I love it.”
“Fuck you.”
Bucky stalked off into the other room and Steve laughed a little bit as he finished making dinner.
When Bucky made his way over to the table, he’d apparently resolved to also pretend everything was normal. “Pass the sauce.”
This lasted for a day and a half.
“TAKE IT OFF!” Bucky screamed, throwing his arms out. “I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS.”
Steve crossed his arms over his bare torso, unimpressed. “It’s useful. What if I have to pee?”
Bucky raked a hand through his hair. “I JUST WANTED TO MAKE A POINT. HOLY SHIT, ROGERS, WHY CAN’T YOU LET ANYTHIGN REST?”
“And I think it’s fashionable,” Steve went on thoughtfully. “It’s stylish.”
“All I wanted was to make a point,” Bucky despaired, banging his head lightly against the wall. “Just go to the bathroom before missions. God. Take it offffff, pleeeaaase.”
“I liked it,” Steve said firmly.
Bucky shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered and stormed out of the apartment. “I need backup.”
The next time Steve met with the Avengers for breakfast, they were all looking at him weirdly. Bucky studiously stared down at his meal and didn’t even turn towards Steve.
“Bucky told you,” Steve said. It wasn’t a question.
Tony looked like he was vibrating in his seat. “You’re actually wearing an adult diaper,” he said in a shrill tone.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It’s real useful.”
Bucky let his forehead thunk onto the table.
“I won’t believe it ‘til I see it,” Tony said, eyes wide.
Steve shrugged and stepped out of his sweatpants. A good half of the Avengers burst into laughter while the other half cringed or tried to show no reaction.
“All of my dreams are coming true,” Tony said faintly while Bucky muttered, “Not even public humiliation works, what the fuck.”
Steve made a point of parading about the Tower in clothes that’d reveal the adult diaper, taking in the horror with a smug sense of triumph.
“How long is this gonna last?” Bucky demanded tiredly as he crawled into bed one night.
“What?” Steve asked, playing dumb.
“The diaper.”
“I dunno. As long as I feel like I need it.”
(Steve didn’t wear it 24/7 though. He wasn’t that committed. Maybe 23/7, though.)
“This has to stop,” Clint had begged. “I’ll let you take Lucky for the weekend.”
“You can’t keep doing this,” Natasha had reasoned. “Barnes will take away sex privileges.”
“Please let me take a picture,” Tony had tried. “I want to frame it.”
“Please put it away,” Sam had pleaded. “I don’t want to see your pasty white ass again.”
“Stop,” Wanda had said. “It has to stop.”
“The lack of professionalism,” Rhodey had despaired. “Unbelievable.”
“No,” Steve had replied to all of them.
“I knew this would happen,” Bucky sighed one day at movie night. “Why do I even try to pull a joke on you? I knew it would happen. Why do I never listen to myself?”
“You love me in all my forms,” Steve said.
“You fucked Steve while he was wearing the diaper,” Tony said gleefully.
Steve and Bucky stared blankly at him.
Tony’s eyes went round. “Steve fucked you while he was wearing the diaper.”
Steve winked.
Tony had to be calmed down by Pepper because he was laughing too hard.
Respite finally came a few weeks later.
Bucky abruptly threw down his tablet onto the couch and strode over to Steve, hands on his hips. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry,” he snapped. “I was wrong about the fucking diapers. You can piss yourself on the battlefield anytime you like. I don’t care.”
Steve smiled softly and loosely grabbed Bucky’s hand. “Buck, that’s all I ever wanted to hear.”
Bucky scoffed, but his shoulders sagged in relief. “You’re a jackass.”
“Pissing yourself in the middle of a battle is an art, Bucky. I just had to make a point.”
“Pissing yourself is better than wearing an adult diaper,” Bucky muttered. “I get it. You’re right, okay? Now, can you please take it off?”
Steve pretended to think about it for a minute. “I dunno, Buck. I’ve gotten used to ‘em.”
“God, please.”
Steve smiled and shucked off the uncomfortable material, finally, leaving him naked in the kitchen.
Bucky looked like he wanted to cry with relief. He grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him towards the bedroom, staring at Steve’s ass as he whispered, “I missed you.”
Steve laughed.