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Bucky sits in front of the sliding glass doors staring forlornly out into the yard. He's not afraid of a little bit of rain, but Steve said no. Bucky is beginning to think Steve likes to say no to him.
"Daddy!"
"Is it still raining?" Steve calls from the kitchen table where he's been reading. Hovering, more like.
Bucky huffs. "Yes."
"You can't sit in the yard."
Bucky crosses his arms, glaring at the rain. "Your plants will not thrive if you do not water them, Steven."
"You're not a plant, Buck. But if your water bottle is empty, bring it here, and I'll refill it."
Bucky sticks his tongue out and turns back to look at his yard.
"You know I won't melt if I get wet," he says. "And I'm a super soldier, so I won't get sick."
"No, you'll just drip all over the house and then leave your wet clothes in a pile to get stinky," Steve replies.
"That was one time!" Bucky scowls at his reflection in the glass.
"Three times, actually."
Bucky can hear Steve get up. He can hear him walk out of the kitchen and come up behind him. But he pointedly ignores him, even after he's crouched down behind with his hands on Bucky's shoulders.
"What if instead of sitting in front of the doors and being grumpy, we go out somewhere?" Steve asks.
"But I like my yard," Bucky says.
Steve gently rubs Bucky's shoulders. "I know you like your yard. But the weatherman said it's going to rain all week. We can go to the library and check out some books. We can go to the movies. We can go to At Home, if you'd like."
Bucky glances over his shoulder at Steve. "Can I make a lamp?"
Steve closes his eyes. "We already have more lamps than we need."
Bucky frowns. "I'm good at lamps."
"Yes," Steve says. "But we've run out of places to put the lamps."
Buck crosses his arms and falls back into Steve who shifts out of his crouch to sit. "I don't get to do anything I like. No yard. No lamps."
"What if we get a rug for your playroom?" Steve offers. He wraps his arms around Bucky's middle and presses a kiss right under his ear.
"Any rug I want?" Bucky asks, his eyes fluttering closed as Steve nuzzles at his neck. He wants to stay grumpy about the yard and the lamps, but Steve is so warm and he smells so nice, and Bucky loves when he kisses him, especially the little kisses under the ear. He feels those ones right down to his toes.
Bucky spends a lot of time stuck in the middle of his headspaces. Not quite little, not quite big. Steve doesn't seem to mind. Loves all of him all of the time, he says. But Bucky really likes when he's all the way big because then Steve kisses him a lot. Last time, he tugged Bucky into his lap and kissed him and kissed him until Bucky was dizzy. It was really, really nice. He likes kissing Steve a lot.
Steve says they can do more kissing more often whenever Bucky's headspaces settle.
"Whatever rug you want, pal. It's your playroom," Steve says softly.
They got rid of the bed and now Bucky has room for his track to stay up even when he's not playing, but he wants a rug. There's a rug in the living room and Bucky likes to lay on it and run his fingers through it.
"Okay," Bucky says. "But we can look at the lamps. And if we see one that's perfect, maybe it can go in the kitchen."
Steve huffs a laugh across the nape of Bucky's neck. "If we see one that's perfect," he agrees.
Good thing Bucky is so good at lamps.
"Lamps are more energy efficient than overhead lights," Bucky says as he gets up. He knows because he read the pamphlet the electric company sent about lower electric bills in the winter.
"Yes. You told me," Steve replies. "Can you go change into outside the house pants?"
Bucky looks down at his bamboo pajamas with the stars and constellations. He really doesn't want to because outside pants aren't as soft as his pajamas, but he does want to go to At Home, so he heads toward the stairs.
Steve kept his promise and has gotten him some bamboo shirts. They feel nice on his skin underneath the winter coat Steve now insists he wear outside. He doesn't remember Steve being so pushy about winter before the war, but a lot of things are different now. Maybe that's because Bucky is Steve's and he can be pushy. Bucky thinks he doesn't mind it so much.
He changes into jeans, one of his bamboo shirts, and sits down on the window seat to put on socks. He's gotten used to socks and underwear since living with Steve. But he would prefer not to wear either. Steve says wearing underwear is just cleaner and his shoes would get stinky without socks. Which makes sense. They're both sensitive to smells, though Steve more than Bucky.
Bucky doesn't have to wear socks if he isn't wearing shoes, which is only when they leave the house. He can be barefoot in the house and in the yard, though Steve said snow is the exception. And rain too because he doesn't get to go out in the rain.
He takes the stairs by two and hops the last few. "I'm ready! Can we get a drink?" Bucky likes to get big drinks with lots of ice. He likes the sound the cup makes when he shakes it.
"Yes, I need more coffee," Steve says, coming to Bucky with his winter coat. Bucky likes coffee. The caffeine burns through his system too fast to matter and he really likes the drink Steve always orders for him, a coconut caramel mocha, but as he turns around, pushing his arm into his coat as Steve prompts, he decides he wants something fruity. Maybe orange. Oh, or strawberry! He smiles as Steve zips up his coat and kisses his nose before bringing his arm up around Steve's neck.
"Hi," he says.
Steve smiles a big smile that lights up his whole face and crinkles his eyes a little bit—Bucky's favorite kind. "Hi," he replies.
Bucky kisses him just softly on the mouth and pulls back. He slips his feet into his shoes. Steve got him special slip on shoes because while he can put shoes on with only one arm, he cannot tie the shoe laces. Steve said he didn't mind tying Bucky's shoes, but what if Steve isn't there? So slip ons. Bucky likes them a lot. They look just like the kind of sneakers Steve wears, but instead of laces they have a stretchy bit that Bucky can pull to tighten. They're pretty nice.
Steve pulls on his own coat and takes Bucky's hand, leading him out to the car. They still have Tony's mafia car, but Steve says he'll get them their own soon. Bucky hopes their car is blue or green.
Once in the car, Steve turns on the radio low and makes sure Bucky's seatbelt is good before he starts off. He goes toward their favorite coffee shop and snags a spot right up front.
"Coffee?" Steve asks.
Bucky shakes his head. "Strawberry."
"Creamy or not?"
"Creamy."
Steve unbuckles and pulls his collar up on his coat before hopping out of the car and heading inside the shop. They like the coffee best at this place and even more when Amanda makes it, but Bucky doesn’t like the sound of the beans grinding or the steam. It makes his skin crawl, so Steve always goes in and brings their drinks back out. If it's nice, they sit outside at the tables, but on days like today, they just take it to go. Bucky likes that they have a favorite coffee shop. He likes that he can hold Steve's hand in public. Nobody looks at them. Nobody gets mad. Even when Bucky calls Steve Daddy, nobody cares. Bucky likes living in a time where it's okay to be little and it's okay to be gay. Or bisexual. He remembers liking girls before too, though it's really always been Steve.
Steve returns with a hot coffee and a pink drink, his head down against the rain. He opens the door and passes over Bucky's drink before climbing into his seat and closing the door. "Amanda says hi," he says, wiping his face off. He settles back into his seat and takes a sip from his cup.
Bucky unwraps his straw and slides it into his drink before he can sip. It's sweet and cold and creamy, everything Bucky wanted. He shakes the cup a little so the ice sloshes around and grins. Everything he wanted.
Steve was right, he thinks. He needed to get up and get out of the house because now he's not so grumpy about not getting to be in his yard. Now he has a nice drink, and they're going to go to At Home.
When they pull into the parking lot, Bucky unbuckles his belt and grabs his cup, but doesn't move to open the door. He waits until Steve comes around and then pops it open and immediately slides his hand into Steve's.
Parking lots can also be overwhelming if there are a lot of cars. A lot of things are overwhelming in a way Bucky doesn't really like or understand. Steve says now that he feels safe and is actually letting himself be small, there might be a lot of things that are different. And the trauma of it all, of course. Bucky doesn't really like to think about it at all, but Steve says trauma changes people, sometimes for good, and it's not easy, which sounds like something Sam would say. Sam probably did say.
Bucky and Sam don't really get along. Or maybe Bucky doesn't get along with Sam. It makes Steve a little sad, Bucky can tell, and he's trying. And Sam isn't all bad. He did bring Bucky a little stuffed dog that is very soft. Though now Bucky has two unnamed friends and the goat is starting to get antsy. Goats are like that. Still, Steve gets all the therapy talk from Sam and Bucky could do without that, he thinks. He did maybe agree to talk to someone, but three therapists have already backed out when they learned who they would be seeing. Steve says that isn't his fault, but it really is. He's the problem.
Steve pulls him against his side and leads toward the door. Once inside, he pulls away so Steve can get a cart. Steve always gets the cart so Bucky can be a free agent. He was in charge of the cart exactly twice and lost it both times.
"Rugs, Buck," Steve says gently. Bucky pauses, oh. He was going toward the lamps. He sighs loudly and diverts.
Bucky's favorite thing about At Home is that it's never busy. There are other people, sure, but rarely do they run into them. The store is huge. Maybe the biggest store Bucky has ever been to. Except Costco, but Bucky doesn’t like Costco. A lady ran her cart right into Bucky when he was looking at muffins and he refuses to go back.
"Did we measure, Daddy?" Bucky asks as they catch sight of the rugs.
"I measured, sweetheart," Steve says. "A five-by-seven will fit nicely, but with some rearranging, we could fit an eight-by-ten."
Bucky considers that and decides on a five-by-seven. He likes the current arrangement of his playroom. He hands off his drink to Steve for safe keeping while he looks for a rug. He starts by touching them. He's looking for one that feels just like the rug in the living room. He wants to lie on his rug and be comfortable. He finds one that feels exactly perfect, but it's a deep, deep red color. Bucky's room is a nice, calm blue color. He needs a rug that is also somewhat blue.
It takes a while for him to finally find another rug that feels nice in the way he wants it to, but this one if various shades of blue and beige in a sort of abstract striped pattern, like someone had just dragged paintbrushes across the surface from one side to the other without worrying about straight lines or even thickness. It was perfect.
Bucky hefted the rolled up rug into the cart and held his hand out for his drink. He took a long drink from his straw and then smiled at Steve. "Lamps?"
Steve patted the rug, squinting at the label for a second before he looked back at Bucky. "Baby, we really don't have room for a lamp in the kitchen."
"Okay, for the living room," Bucky says, turning toward where the lamp aisles are. "No! We need a lamp for the table where your keys go. We can turn it on before we leave so the entry isn't dark when we get home! Perfect."
Steve narrows his eyes, pressing his lips together. "Okay, but Bucky, this is our last lamp," he says finally.
Buck grins and leads the way right to the lamps. He starts with the bases. He slowly walks up the aisle and then down again, eyeing all the different bases, but his eyes keep going to a small gourd shaped lamp base that is the exact shade as one of the blues in his new rug.
"I think the bird lamp should go on the entry table," he says as he picks up the gourd. He holds it up. "This one matches my rug, so it should go in my room."
"That one does match your rug. Pick a lampshade," Steve replies. He leans on the cart.
Bucky picks a nice smaller lampshade in a light blue that is a little lighter than the lamp, but matches the walls of his room almost spot on. The shade has scalloped edges, and Bucky thinks it'll look really good on his dresser. The gold bird lamp with its green shade will look better downstairs anyway.
"We have lightbulbs," Steve says as Bucky puts his lamp in the cart.
Bucky looks at his lamp for a few seconds, just admiring it. It really will look so perfect in his room with his new rug.
He glances at Steve who is looking at him with this half smile. "Whatcha lookin at, punk?" he asks.
Steve laughs. "My favorite person," he says easily and that makes Bucky feel warm inside. He reaches out to Steve who immediately takes his hand and pulls it close, kissing his knuckles. Bucky can help but smile as he shuffles towards him.
"You're my favorite person," he says. "Even when I'm very grumpy."
Steve laughs again and tugs Bucky flush against him. "That is good to know. You get very grumpy when it rains."
Bucky leans his head against Steve's shoulder. "We can't go on our walk. I can't go into the yard. It's hard to be me when it rains.
Steve lifts a hand and gently scratches Bucky's scalp. "The rain will pass, I promise. Ready to go put your rug in your room?"
Bucky pulls away reluctantly and nods. He searches around until he finds his drink where he sets it down on a shelf and grabs that.
It's raining harder once they've paid, so they make a dash for the car. Bucky gets in while Steve loads the rug and lamp before returning the cart. He's soaked by the time he gets in the car.
Bucky makes a face. He has to take all his clothes off when they get wet like Steve's coat is wet. And yeah, maybe they do end up in a pile to get smelly, but Bucky doesn't like the way his wet clothes feel on his skin. He's really glad his winter coat is waterproof.
The drive home is quiet. Steve turns on one of their playlists and Bucky works on finishing his drink that is now a little watery.
Steve parks. The rain is lighter, so they hurry to the door.
"There's a package!" Bucky says, noting the brown box on the doorstep. It's been tucked up out of the rain mostly, but it still looks a little soggy.
"Grab it!" Steve says as he hefts the rug and the bag with the lamp into the house.
Bucky does not like the feeling of damp cardboard, he decides as he picks up the box. But he carries it inside and sets it down in the entryway. He pulls the door shut and locks it before kicking out of his shoes and following Steve up the stairs.
"Alright." Steve leans the rug against the wall in Bucky's playroom. "We have to put the track away so we can lay out the rug, but that can wait."
Bucky stands in the doorway. "I can clean it now, Daddy," he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He feels a little like he's done something wrong, but since they moved the bed out, he's allowed to leave his toys out so long as they stay in his room. He knows he's allowed, but there's still that yucky feeling in his tummy.
"Hey," Steve says, resting his hands on Bucky's shoulders. "I just thought we could do it together after lunch."
Bucky tugs at his lower lip with his teeth. He shakes his head. "You make lunch. I can put my track away."
Steve studies his face for a long moment. "That would be a big help, baby." He rubs Bucky's shoulders a little. "Let's get you out of your winter coat. I was thinking grilled cheese with strawberries for lunch. That sound okay?"
Buck nods as Steve starts to unzip him from his coat. He spins a little as he pulls his arm free and then Steve kisses his forehead before he leaves the room.
Bucky is careful as he picks up his track. The rooster from his farm is well on his way to becoming the best racecar driver the farm has ever seen, so the farm animals are scattered around, spectating. He puts all the pieces of the tracks back on the box, all the animals are back in the barn and then his tummy doesn't feel so yucky anymore.
He knows he's not in trouble. Steve always tells him if he's in trouble and he doesn't make him wait or anything. He puts him in the time out chair and then stays right there the whole time. Bucky just doesn't understand why he felt the way he did. It doesn't make sense.
After he finishes cleaning up, he takes his lamp from the bag and sets it on the dresser. Yes, perfect. He takes the light bulb from the bird lamp and swaps the plugs. He switches on his new lamp. It really is perfect, and everything will look even better when the rug is down. He gathers up the bird lamp and heads downstairs.
Bucky supposes it's maybe more a tree lamp, if he thinks about it. Because the gold lamp base is kind of like a tree with two little branches, each with a little gold bird perched. But bird lamp is more fun. He sets the lamp carefully on the table in the entryway and tucks the cord behind without plugging it in. Also perfect.
"That table really does look better with a lamp, Steve," he says as he walks into the kitchen.
Steve glances back at him from the stove and smiles. "But now we really are out of room for lamps. There are four in the living room alone."
Bucky nods. He's just so good at lamps, and he loves putting them together so much. He pulls out a chair at the table and sits down. Lunch smells really good, and he's suddenly very hungry.
"It'll still be a few minutes for lunch. Can you open that package for me?" Steve asks.
Bucky makes a face over having to touch the cardboard again, but he nods and goes to get it. He brings it back to the kitchen and easily pops the tape.
"I was thinking we could go for a walk before dinner tonight," Steve says.
Bucky frowns. It's raining. It's been raining. The weatherman on the TV said it was going to rain all week.
He maybe scowls just a little when he looks at Steve, still gripping the damp box. "Daddy, it's raining."
"Oh yeah," Steve hums like he forgot, and when he doesn't say anything else, Bucky goes back to opening the box. Whatever is inside is yellow. Very yellow. With green. Bucky pulls out a... a boot? It's yellow and it has little green spikes on the heel. It's attached to a matching boot by a stretchy string. Beneath the boots, is something in the same yellow and green. Bucky removes it and shakes it out—the box with one boot still in it falls to the ground taking the other with it. A coat, but it's not big and thick like his winter one. It's yellow, it has a hood with more little green spikes and dinosaurs printed on the back and sides.
"Steve, I have a coat," he says softly, confused.
"I know, but you didn't have a raincoat with rainboots," Steve replies.
Buck feels his eyes widen as he takes in the coat. They make special coats and boots for the rain?
"The coat is long and has a big hood to keep all the water off your clothes and the boots will protect your feet from getting wet even if you step in a puddle," Steve adds.
Bucky stepped in a puddle three days ago just in his normal shoes on accident, and it had been so bad. His sock got all the way wet and his one foot was just cold and wet for the whole time they were in the grocery store. He'd cried just a little bit about it too in front of the cereal. But now Bucky had rainboots to protect his feet and his socks!
"Can we go for a walk right now?" he asks.
Steve laughs softly. "Not this minute. Lunch is almost ready, and then we are going to put your new rug down before a rest, but as soon as we get up again, we will go for a walk, I promise."
Bucky considers that. He doesn't really want to take a rest, but Steve insisted almost every day. And it is nice to snuggle with Steve, sure. He doesn't love that he can't go outside now, but he supposes that is an okay compromise.
He takes his coat and hangs it up by the door, lines the boots up with his other shoes, and puts the box for recycling. He sits back down at the table just in time for Steve to put a plate with two cut grilled cheese and some sliced in half strawberries right in front of him.
Bucky tilts his head back to look up at Steve and smiles. Steve smiles back before kissing him lightly on the mouth. Bucky wants more of that, but he knows he isn't big enough for Steve to kiss him dizzy, so he reaches out and takes Steve's hand.
"Thank you," he says softly.
"Oh, it's no big deal, Bucky, just some grilled cheese, but you're welcome," Steve replies.
Bucky shakes his head. "For my rug and my lamp, and my new raincoat and rain boots. For all of it, Daddy. Thank you for everything."
Steve gently cups his face. "You deserve the world, Bucky Barnes, I'm just doing the best I can."
Bucky smiles. Steve is probably wrong, but Bucky knows now what it feels like to be loved by Steve Rogers openly and honestly, and he won't trade one bit of it for the world.