Be Mine, But Don't Make Me Ask

by Apieceofurmind

Summary:

Joseph waits his whole life for the perfect alpha son who will make him proud. The son who follow his father's footsteps and serves their country at war. And then, Steve Rogers is born. He is not strong, tall or muscular. But above all he is not an alpha. Betrayed by his own son, Joseph shuns him away.

Enter James Barnes. Tall, muscular and strong. The perfect alpha.

When Joseph saves his life on the battlefield, he asks him to marry Steve in return...

Notes:

This is my first multi-chapter fic on AO3 and to say I'm excited would be an understatement. I have a rough idea about how long this fic will be, but I don't want to give anything away just yet. It's an a/b/o fic, so expect a lot of smut later on, but for the time being there is an arranged marriage, slow burn and mutual pining to get through. And when I say slow burn, I mean really slow burn.

Now to the important parts:
1. Even though it is a modern setting, some characters display an archaic sense of thinking. It was important to the plot and in no way depicts what I think or feel.
2. One of the characters in the first chapter is misogynistic and chauvinistic and trust me when I say that I hate the fact that I had to write him. But, he is important to the plot and so please bear with me.
3. In the story, omegas and betas are believed to be inferior to the alphas and thus are not allowed to do a lot of jobs that are considered tough, such as join the army.
4. Joseph is an asshole. I AM NOT. (I feel like I can't stress this enough.)
5. Mention of domestic abuse in the prologue. Just a bit.

Chapter 1: Forgive my Father, for he has Sinned

4^th of July 2000

Joseph stood beside his wife’s hospital bed with bated breath. All his dreams were finally coming true. All those years of waiting, trying and trying again and they were finally having their son. After years patience, of prayers and hopes, they were finally going to have a son, he had made sure of it, a son for him to take care of, teach, and nurture into a soldier just like him. He'd always dreamt of a soldier son, a tall and proud alpha like his father and he couldn’t wait for it all to come true. Couldn’t wait to see his son follow his footsteps into the army and later raise a family of his own.  

 

He'd always dreamt only of a son. No daughters, no girls. He wanted a strong alpha son, one who would make him and carry on the Rogers’ name. Omegas and betas were a disgrace, the weaker sections of the society and he didn’t want to raise them. they couldn’t join the army, couldn’t follow their family tradition and neither could they carry the name forward.

 

He was a man of traditional and orthodox thinking, not one of those who believed in equal statuses of the two genders and three secondary genders. Women were inferior to men and the other two secondary genders were inferior to the alphas. That was just how the world was and there were no exceptions to that rule. Not even for his wife.

 

Sarah was a beautiful woman, skin pale and spotless and eyes the perfect shade of blue. The pink of her lips and the pink of her cheeks were perfectly matched and the way her eyelashes framed her face was divine. Not only was she the most beautiful woman Joseph had ever seen, she was the most enticing omega he had ever met.

 

Her scent, the subtle scent of rose water, had drawn him in so fast and hard, that he had hardly had anytime to know what was happening. Then it had all happened equally fast. They'd been married in the next year.

 

But that didn’t mean he loved her.

She was an omega, somebody who could bear him a child. A woman, with a functional reproductive system and beautiful features, who would bear him his handsome son. That was all she was to him, had always been.

 

Something she realised soon after marriage.

 

They started trying for a baby immediately after marriage and were successful three times prior to it. But every time the child turned out to a girl and Joseph got it terminated. The more abortions, the weaker Sarah got. Joseph was sure she wouldn’t be able to give birth after this, but he was okay with that, he would finally have his son.

 

His own son.

 

His wife lay struggling on the bed, tears streaming down her pale face and her screams reverberating in the loud room. But he paid no attention to that, focussed on the many plans he had for his son’s future. He knew he wouldn’t be of any help to her at this moment and he did not want to be the wuss who holds their wife’s hand and talks shit with her. She’s going to do what her gender is supposed to do and he is going to do what his does.

 

 

It’s after a long while that the room comes alive with the sound of a baby’s cry. Joseph rushes forward and snatches the baby from the doctor’s hand, examines him carefully and finally breathes a sigh of relief.

 

A boy, at last.

 

A boy with bright blue eyes and golden hair. A boy with the world’s strongest fist and world’s loudest cries. His own son, beautiful and strong.

 

He'd never been happier in his life. Finally, a boy was born to him, finally he could have some respect in his circle. He couldn’t wait till his son’s 18^th birthday when he will be presented an alpha and he could parade him down the streets. Let everyone see the alphas of Brooklyn city.

**

4^th of July 2018

“An omega? My son’s a filthy omega?” Joseph bellowed at his wife’s fear-stricken face. She moved backwards in fear and his eyes widened in return. He liked to see her afraid, afraid of him and his temper, afraid to be struck, afraid of her alpha. It soothed some sadistic, lizard part of his brain and he was drunk on that power.

 

He advanced on her and grabbed a fist of her hair, pulling her up by it and snarling in her face.

 

“Did you not hear me? I asked if my son is a fucking omega.” She moved her head back to avoid the spit spray but he tightened his hand and bought her closer, pulling her hair till she sobbed.

 

She nodded fearfully, more tears springing to her face at the rough handling and he turned his face away in disgust. He threw her onto the floor and started pacing the length of it. 

 

He was goddamn furious. He was upset, embarrassed and above all very fucking angry. His son, the one whom he'd believed would be his pride, had turned out to be his worst nightmare ever. The boy was his greatest regret, the loser crown he wore on his head.

 

First it had been his poor health, the boy couldn’t last a second outside without catching a cold, and had missed most of his school that way. Then it had been his non-existent growth spree. Teenage boys he went to school with developed muscles and chest hair and grew taller than their fathers, but his son remained the skinny, bony guy he'd always been. With every passing moment, throughout his son’s growth, he faced shame and embarrassment. He'd always hoped it would change with this, the presenting of secondary genders, and maybe he'd be able to wash off the shame when his son joined the army.

 

Now, even that dream had been crushed. His son was a fucking omega.

 

His agitated pacing is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. He listens carefully to the soft footsteps in the living room and grits his teeth at the vanilla scent of his son.

 

He walked into his son’s room to greet him and sees the second his son gets fear in his eyes. The boy bows his head, arms behind his back and waits for Joseph to approach. The alpha does, even though he takes his own sweet time to do it and comes and stands too close to his son.

 

The vanilla scent is infuriating in itself but coupled with the fear that mixes in with it, it’s nauseating.

 

“Is my son an alpha?” he questions in a deceptively calm voice but icy tone.

 

The teenager’s eyes snapped up to his face, panic and anxiety written as clear as daylight in them, and then lowered immediately. The boy took a deep breath and let it out in a pained sigh.

 

“No, sir.” This voice barely carried across the minimal space between them, but the words still reverberated in the silence around them.

 

Joseph’s  mouth curled up in a smile, slowly, deliberately. The smile was cold, malicious and cruel. A smile that could bring so much pain, so many tears.

 

“Then he is not my son.” He replied. Casually, calmly, softly. Like he hadn’t just disowned his own blood. Hadn’t cut ties with his own son, his flesh, his first love.

 

The boy took a step back, his eyes brimming with tears and his mouth hanging open in shock. He shook his head violently, as if he could will away the past through it and valiantly tried to keep the tears off his cheeks.

 

“No, dad, please. I'm still your son, please.” The young man, who once used to be his son, cried.

 

But Joseph didn’t relent, hardly looked at the messed-up picture of the teenager. A broken image of the boy, who used to be his son.

 

The vanilla scent had gone stale now. Putrid, it had become. Rotten like their very relationship.

 

“No, Steve, you're not.” Because he's not Joseph’s  son anymore, he's Steve, just Steve and Joseph will never be calling him as his son again.

 

**

25^th of May 2019

When the sun sets in the battlefield of Afghanistan, Joseph likes to think of the article he once read in his youth. The worst place on earth, is your nightmare. In his innocent childhood he believed that lie, but in his wise mid-forties, he knows that’s not true. The war, the battlefield he's currently in the middle of right now, that’s the worst place on earth.

 

Danger looms over their heads, death is more certain than uncertain and everyone sleeps curled around the hopes and dreams of home. His nightmares are a paradise compared to the reality out there, rationed rations, beds with no bedding and a fight with no victors.

 

He stifles a yawn and reaches for the lukewarm cup of coffee beside him. He's on night duty today, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t already been worked down to his bones. Tiredness seeped into every nook and crevice of his body and he could hardly blink without exhaustion threatening to shut his eyes in sleep. It’s with heavy despair and a long sigh that he realises its empty. He resigns himself to his plight and turns back to watching the horizon. The sun is way past the horizon and the world was already bathed in shades of beautiful indigo and blue.

 

“Night duty, huh? That’s rough.” A deep voice spoke up from behind him. He turned around to the scent of dark chocolate with a smile, the voice familiar and very dear to him, and beckoned the other, man to sit beside him.

 

James Barnes. The son Joseph never had.

Sergeant James Barnes was a strong, handsome, alpha, the kind every man aspired to be. Promoted to sergeant at a very young age in recognition for the extinguished services provided to his nation, James had been the recipient of countless medals and honours. He was a fearless soldier, a great leader and above all compassionate and kind to his comrades. Joseph adored him, was immensely fond of him and to say he wished he had been James’ father would be the understatement of the century.

 

James smiled back at him, grey eyes twinkling under the blanket of stars the night provided, and took a seat beside the elder man. He folded his legs and placed a flask of coffee between them.

 

“Couldn’t sleep, sir?” Joseph questioned softly, an encouragement to talk of need be. And it surprised him, every interaction of his with the tall brunette surprised him. He was not the kind to talk feelings, ask other to confide in him or go to confide in them. He'd been brought up with the notion that that behaviour was for women, not men, definitely not for tough alphas.

 

But when it came to James, he wanted to know what troubled the lad, what nightmares he had, why he couldn’t sleep. Though the war that rages in front of them is answer enough, Joseph wants to hear it from the brunette himself.

 

Fatherhood, he tells himself. This is what fatherhood is.

 

“Not tired enough, I guess.” James replies with a tired sigh, his head hung between his shoulders.

 

“The camp’s too quiet, isn’t it? Even I can’t sleep without gunfire as a lullaby.” Joseph gives him a wry smile and reaches for the flask, pouring a cup and offering it to the brunette, who watches him with a strange look in his eyes.

 

Afraid, vulnerable, terrified.

 

“What does that tell about us? What does that make us?” as he speaks the fear becomes more palpable, more profound and Joseph’s  heart aches for the young man. A young man with all his life in front of him, a whole future in front of him. A future which looks bleaker every second, every moment.

 

“It makes us soldiers, heroes, martyrs.” He places a hand on James’ shoulder and gives him a small smile. But the sarge doesn’t smile back, just clutches his wrist with his hand and looks into his eyes with the same haunted look he had before.

 

“What if we never stop being soldiers? What if we can’t go back to being just people? I don’t want to be just a soldier, I want so much more. I want a family of my own, a partner, kids, grandkids even. What if being a soldier makes me ineligible for everything else? What if I am always a soldier first and a human later?”

 

“Then you’ll still live. I did. I've got a wife. A s-” he can’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have a son back home, hasn’t for almost a year now. Hasn’t thought about Steve for almost a year now, and is definitely not going to think about him now. Not when he's actually talking to his son, his son – not by blood but by deed.

 

“I've got a wife back home and a son right here.” He squeezes James’ shoulder with a tight smile and lets it go. James drops the hand holding the elder man’s wrist and smiles at him, the smile still not reaching his eye, but not as strained as before.

 

“My-”

His sentence gets cut off as a gunshot rings in the distance. They are both up on their feet in an instant, Joseph’s  hand flying towards his rifle and James reaching for his own. They nod at each other and take off towards the direction of the noise, glad that adrenaline leads the way. The sound arouses the rest of their camp and soldiers pile into the centre within minutes, armed and ready to fight.

 

There are no orders being given, it’s a do or die situation and amidst the lingering stench of death is the underlying current of fear and hesitation. Taking lives, human lives, irrespective of the fact that they may be the enemy. Was hard, inexplicably so. But they did.

 

Under the cover of darkness, it was impossible to see anything much. But they recognised each other and trusted each other even more. Bullets flew through the air and the ringing hung in their ears. Mud and dirt flew around them and their comrades fell. Joseph hardly spared them all a glance, too focused on keeping himself alive and breathing, making it out of there in one piece.

 

It happens so fast he hardly notices it. He shoots and an enemy soldier falls. He rushes towards the edge of the camp at the same time that James does. But he notices the sniper that James doesn’t. It’s a split-second decision really, James is a young man, with a full life ahead of him, a future ahead of him. He can’t die, Joseph can’t let his son die.

 

He jumps at the brunette, throws his body in front of his. Takes the bullet meant for him, meant for his son. Falls to the ground beside his son. Hears him call out to him, hears him tell him not to close his eyes, feels himself smile.

 

Fatherhood, he tells himself. This is what fatherhood is.

**

4^th of March 2020

Joseph stares at his so-, no at Steve indignantly. The blonde had walked his house the day he got discharged from the hospital and came back home and he had promptly asked him to get out. His wife had cried and begged not to do it, had fallen at his feet and cried her heart out over it, but he had refused to reconsider.

 

He knew his wife kept meeting with him and he had put his foot down about that. Lot of crying had ensued and lot of screaming had followed but eventually his wife agreed.

 

And that was why Steve was here today. Staring down his father with enough venom to kill. But Joseph didn’t budge either, returning the glare with his own.

 

“I may not be your son, but she is my mother. You cannot forbid me to see her and neither can you forbid her from seeing me. She gave birth to me, endured enough pains due to your madness and you will not keep her from me. You will not cause her any more pain.” The tiny blonde bellowed, his hands fisted at his sides, his face an angry shade of red.

 

“She suffered pain because of you. She’s ashamed of you, of her pansy little omega son. You brought shame and disgrace to our family and you have the audacity to come back here and make demands from me. You should be thankful I let you live this long, boy. Should’ve killed you the day I realised you weren’t going to grow anymore.” His voice grew agitated so did his scent. The angry pheromones from both of them clogged the air around them, suffocating, trapping.

 

“I brought shame and disgrace? What did I ever do, father? That I was born weak? That I am not an alpha? That I'm short and thin and not manly looking enough for you?” Tears sprung to Steve's eyes and his voice broke more after every question. Joseph would’ve felt sorry for him, but he didn’t. couldn’t. not when Steve had disgraced him so much. Disgraced him in all the ways he had just mentioned.

 

“Yes. Yes, to all of that. You're an omega and not even a healthy one. This is the end of my family, Steve. This is the end of the Rogers’ name. Who will marry you? Who will ever want you? I've always wanted grandkids and because of you I’ll never have that.” He spat at the man whom he once loved. Whom he once cradled close to his heart and vowed to love till the end of his days. He looked into those same baby blue eyes and saw shame and disrespect when once he had seen pride and glory.

 

“I can have kids, father. I-”

 

“You will and then what? Give them the name Rogers? Which alpha would allow that, Steve? The omegas don’t name their children after them. They never have. Just get out. You can’t see your mother, we cannot be associated with you anymore.” There was a finality to the words, a tone that felt no room for arguing. However, Steve was stubborn, adamant to a fault and he would not give up.

 

“You can’t make her decisions for her. Let her choose, you or me.” He looked towards his mother but she shook her head at him, shame and guilt written clear in her eyes. A lone tear fell from the blonde’s eyes and he shook his head in surprise. His mouth fell open but no sound came out and he turned towards Joseph in shock.

 

The vanilla in the air, turned acidic, as did the rose water.

 

“Get out boy and never return.” Joseph smiled at him, slow and malicious and Steve turned away immediately.

 

The doorbell rings then and all three of them freeze. Joseph shoots them both a murderous glare and silences them with his look alone.

 

“Make yourselves presentable in case they come inside.” He orders in a low volume and goes to open the door.

 

Once he reaches the door, he takes a deep breath, forces a smile onto his face and throws the door open.

James. James Barnes is at his door.

 

**

“So, James, what brings you here?” He questions with a smile, the sight of his son removing all the negativity from the earlier interaction. James seems to take a moment to sniff the air around them and that’s when Joseph notices the sourness of it.

 

Sarah’s rose water scent and Steve's vanilla one is both doused in anguish and despair and it tangs the air around them with something putrid and horrible. Joseph’s  own scent, pine trees and dew, is laden with anger and irritation and it does not help the atmosphere around them. James seems to catch onto all this and he eyes them all with growing discomfiture.

 

“I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life, sir. Thank you so much. Without you… I’d never be here, not alive, not in the least. I don’t know how I can repay you, sir, nothing I do could be good enough, but if there’s anything I can do please let me know.” His tone drips with sincerity and Joseph’s  heart swells with pride. This kid makes him so happy, so proud and Joseph is glad he saved his life. He did the world a huge favour.

 

“Trust me when I say, that you don’t need to thank me for saving our life, James. You are a real hero and the army needs you. Please don’t thank me for it and disrespect me like that.” He leans forward and squeezes his left shoulder gently and James immediately tenses. Joseph furrows his eyebrows at the movement but doesn’t question it, waits for the brunette to speak.

 

“I got discharged from the army, sir. Lost my left arm oversees, so, they sent me home with a metal one and an honourable discharge.” He says it in one breath, not stopping for a second to second guess himself and stop.

 

But Joseph’s  heart does stop at the news. Constricts and hurt inside his chest. After everything he did to save the kid, he missed out on one. Staying back. He was not there to watch his son’s back and he got injured. Because of him, because Joseph came back home and left James there amidst gunfire and bombs.

 

“James if you need-” Joseph starts but James interrupts him.

 

“Sir, please don’t pity me. You of all people… please don’t.” he puts his right hand up as a stop signal and Joseph nods and hangs his head. He takes a deep breath and looks away from James, his gaze instead falling on Steve who stands away in a corner, his eyes trained on the floor but mind elsewhere. And an idea strikes him. If he couldn’t take care of James then, maybe somebody could now.

 

“You asked me if there was anything you could do for me. Does the offer still stand?” he asks the brunette, who immediately raise his head and nods, his scent growing stronger with confusion.

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“Then marry my son.”

 

**

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Marriage is a Contract

Summary:

Joseph blackmails Steve into accepting the proposal, which complicates Steve's standing with James, whom he is getting to know.

Notes:

Thank you for the overwhelming response to the first chapter. Thank you for every kudos, every comment and every hit, your encouragement means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy the update, though, I must warn you, all updates will not be this regular.

4th of March 2020

 

“What?” a deep voice pulls Steve out from his own musings and he looks up towards the tall brunette. The alpha is strong and handsome, but, the detail only crosses Steve's head for a moment. Instead it’s the look of absolute doubt and confusion in the alpha’s eyes, as he stares at Steve's father, that catches his attention.

 

He straightens up from his position against the wall and looks on intently at the two men in front of him as the strong scent of dark chocolate surrounds them.

 

“You heard me perfectly the first time around James. I asked you to marry my son.” Joseph spoke calmly, his voice not betraying what his scent did. Desperation, doubt and hope.

 

He makes Steve nauseous, sick and very angry.

 

“Sir, I…” the brunette started, his face having lost his colour at the words, but Joseph interrupted him.

 

 

“You’re not going back on your word, are you? You said if there is anything you can do and now, I'm asking you do this. Marry my son.”  He smiled at James and Steve saw James’ eyes widen at the smile.

 

“What? How can you make such a proposition without asking me?” He takes a step forward in anger and feels his fists clench against his wishes. He looks up at the brunette who is looking at the floor in shame and then at his father who looks at him with a clam and straight face.

 

“Steve, my son,” he begins with a cruel smile, “this is none of your business. I'm your father and the alpha of the house and I'm making a decision. You will comply with it, whether you like it or not. Do we understand each other?”

 

“No, we don’t, father. It is my business, because it is my life. You cannot make decisions for me without consulting me. Just because you're an alpha doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me nor does it mean I'm bound to listen to you. And father? You haven’t been a father all these years and suddenly you become one. It doesn’t work like that. So, take your proposal and shove it where the son don’t shine.” He screamed at his father and walked out of the suffocating house, the scent of dark chocolate drenched in embarrassment following him.

 

He steps out on to the porch and takes a deep breath, wills his hands to stop shaking and his breathing to even out. He feels guilty for yelling at his father, but he can’t feel guilty about the things he said. All his life he's been hearing the same things. How alphas make the rule. How the omegas listen and obey, don’t question or ask. He's tired of it all, of the patriarchy and its rules, of their world and its archaic customs.

 

For once, he wishes he was an alpha, left to his own free will.

 

Behind him the door to the house opens and the scent of dark chocolate wafts out. Steve doesn’t turn around to greet the brunette instead starts walking down the porch.

 

“Steve, please wait.” He calls out to him, but Steve doesn’t stop, just continues on his way, faster then before, not sure if he could handle talking to the man and not punching him in the face.

 

“Steve, please. I'm requesting you to wait and listen to me.” The brunette sounds sincere and despite Steve's wishes, he stops and turns.

 

He crosses his arms across his chest and looks up ta the brunette. He doesn’t return the small smile he gives him and taps his foot impatiently against the concrete. The smile disappears from the soldier’s face as he hangs in head in shame, his demeanour screaming embarrassment.

 

And that shocks Steve.

 

“I'm sorry for what happened inside. I'm really sorry for being the reason for your fight with your father.” Steve scoffs at that. As if this man was the reason Steve and Joseph had been butting heads. But he did loosen his posture a little at the apology, at the sincerity in the man’s voice. He took a step towards the young man and let his arms drop from his chest.

 

“Trust me it isn’t your fault. My dad and I… well we’ve never gotten along. It’s not new. Don’t blame yourself.”

 

The soldier lifted his head and looked at Steve with guilty eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed softly, a soft breeze carrying the sound away from them both. He looked away from Steve and at the neighbour’s tree before continuing.

 

“Your father saved my life in the battlefield. Took a bullet for me. I owe him my life, Steve and in return he’s asking me to marry you. You must understand that I cannot refuse, not after what he did for me. But I know he will not go through with this if you refuse. Please speak to him, tell him why it’s a bad idea. He’ll listen to you.” His voice is soft as the look in his eyes and Steve feels himself feeling bad for the man. He did not know how manipulative Joseph could get, didn’t know the price he would ask for his life. He was trapped in a situation from where there was no getting out. He'd given his word to Joseph and going back on it was a fate worse than death.

 

And he isn’t sure if he wants to tell the man that no matter what, Joseph will not listen to Steve. Will not back out from this just because Steve said so. That’s not the relationship Steve has with his father. Instead now that Joseph knows how much Steve hates this, he’ll probable mov heaven and earth to make it happen, use manipulation and force if necessary. But he doesn’t want to tell all this to an absolute stranger, doesn’t want him to see Steve as some sort of a distressed damsel or Joseph as some supervillain, no matter how much of it he actually was.

 

He took a deep breath and thought about his next words, of how much he hated his own words.

 

“My father and I…we don’t have a normal relationship, in fact we don’t have a relationship. He can’t force me to do anything I don’t want and this marriage is one of those. There will be no marriage, I promise you that. There's no way he can convince me to marry you, come what may.”

 

For the first time, the brunette smiled genuinely, his lips parting in the most beautiful way and crinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. He reached forward and squeezed Steve’s hand gently before smiling at him again and letting go.

 

“It’s really nothing against you, Steve. It’s just that we do not know each other and..” he hesitated as a faint blush coloured his cheeks pink and he ducked his head with a shy smile, “and I'm a romantic, you know. Dating, love, marriage, I want the whole deal. I've never had that.”

 

He smiled shyly at Steve again and Steve's heart did something funny at the smile.

 

“Well best of luck with that. May you find that person soon.”

 

James smiled at him again and left. Walked out of there fast and without turning back even once. Steve watched him go and couldn’t help replaying the whole conversation in his head.

 

James, the alpha. The one who felt guilt, embarrassment and shy. An alpha who apologised to an omega, spoke to Steve with respect and one who took time to reassure Steve that for once the problem was not with him. Those qualities in an alpha were not rare, but they were uncommon and Steve couldn’t help but wonder in what other ways this alpha could surprise him.  

**

Steve went back inside, took a deep breath and stood in front of his smoking father. He fought the urge to cough at the revolting smell, but held it in till it passed. His eyes watered at the effort and he could see his father trying not to smile at his discomfort.

 

Joseph stubbed the cigarette out in an ash tray and took a sit on the couch, gesturing for Steve to sit in the one across from him. The blonde shook his head and stood his ground, glaring at his father as they each waited for the other to speak.

 

“Why?” he questioned, his voice low and tone icy. Joseph looked at him and rolled his eyes. He crossed his legs on eon top of the other and leaned sideways to take a new cigarette.

 

“Because I like him.” He curtly replied as he lit a new smoke and took a puff. He blew the smoke out in Steve's direction and chuckled cruelly when Steve coughed.

 

“Oh, yeah? And not because you hate me?” the blonde wheezed out before he went on another coughing spree. His father chuckled again, uncrossing his legs and leaning both his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, mouth twisting into a mocking grin.

 

“Oh, you poor boy. Not everything is about you. In fact, the world does not revolve around a poor sickly omega. Huh? Not surprising at all.”

 

“Why a marriage proposal? And if you like him so much, why do you want him to marry me, your ‘not son’?” he questioned back, smiling when his father looked thrown for a moment.

 

But it didn’t last long. Joseph took another puff of the cigarette and blew it out towards the side, looking pleased with himself when he saw the surprised look in Steve's eyes.

 

“It’s true that I hate you and love him a little too much. Also, true that no alpha could ever want you. But, you see, you’re a good omega. Or at least you can be one. You’re gonna take care of him for me, Steve. Make sure he's well looked after, fed and taken care of. If he wants you to be his good little house wife, you will be and if he wants a child, you will give it to him. This is not for you, it’s for him. He's my son and you're gonna make sure he’s happy.”

 

Steve froze in his spot. His own father…

 

The words he'd always wished he'd never have to hear, spoken to him by his own father. He fought back tears and shook his head violently to clear the bad thoughts away.

 

No. just because he was an omega did not mean that all he was good at was cooking and cleaning and being a house wife. He could do so much more than warm somebody’s bed or keep them happy. He wasn’t just a baby making machine, he was an illustrator, an artist. He wasn’t born to be somebody’s housewife, neither was he going to be. His father could dream all he wants, but there was no way Steve was gonna conform to the ways of this world, of the patriarchy.

 

“None of that is going to happen, father. Try all you want, but you can’t make me marry him, make me walk down the aisle with him on the other side. I won’t do anything I don’t want to do and being his bitch is not something I want.” His voice didn’t waiver as he spoke and he was proud of himself. He stood firm and proud in front of his father and refused to look away when he met his father’s strong gaze.

 

“That is what you think, Steve. But what if I make you an offer you can’t refuse?”

 

“No offer will change what I said, father.” He didn’t look away from his father, even as apprehension clouded his scent. He knew his father and his manipulative ways. Had dealt with them since adolescence. But he couldn’t succumb now as he had done then. There was no going back if he married James, no redos.

 

 

“But listen to what I have to offer. Your mother has chosen me over you. Has refused to go away and live with you and has also refused to meet you again. But, if you marry James and keep him happy the way I asked you to, I might ask her to reconsider. In fact, if you beg James well enough, maybe give him a little incentive, he might even let your mother come and live with you guys. Away from me and my cruel ways. And I will let her go with you. But, on the contrary, if you still aren’t convinced and do not want to marry James, your mother will continue to live with me, you won’t get to see her or talk to her and well you know, I'm a cruel, abusive man. Who knows what will happen to your mom. If she will get hurt, if she’ll cry or if one day, she just can’t take it anymore and just dies. Who knows, am I right Steve?” he flicked the cigarette away and called out to his wife, while Steve stood there in shock. He couldn’t believe his father had swooped that low, had blackmailed him with his mother.

 

He watched as his mother walked into the living room and looked at them both in fear before turning towards Joseph.

 

“There are cigarette butts all over the fucking floor. Do I look like I wanna live in a dump, huh? Is this why I married you, so that I could do all the cleaning myself? Fucking answer me, instead of standing her like a dumb idiot. Are you gonna clean it, or should I?” he barked at his mother and Steve felt himself flinch at the tone.

 

Sarah immediately fell to her knees and picked up the cigarette butt, putting it away in the ash tray and carrying the ash tray away. Before leaving she looked back at Steve once, grief and sadness making her eyes look paler than Steve had ever seen them be and Steve made a decision then and there, for his mother, he'd do anything. Even marry the devil if it came to that.

 

He took a deep breath, thumbed away the few tears that had slipped down his cheeks and looked at his monster of a father.

 

“I will do it. I’ll marry him if that’s what you want. But you’ll keep your end of the bargain, let my mother be happy and you will not hurt her anymore. Do you understand?” he shook a finger at his father and in return his father nodded.

 

His face split into a delighted smile and he got up from the couch to come and stand in front of Steve. He took hold of Steve's face and tilted it up, so they could look at each other when he spoke.

 

“For the first time since you were born, you’ve made me happy son. Now, in a similar manner, make James happy. He deserves it. Poor boy has gone through so much. He deserves happiness Steve. Lots of happiness.”

 

For the first time, Steve heard a softness in his father’s voice. Love and empathy in that harsh voice. But it wasn’t addressed towards him, not even towards his mother. It was for a stranger; a man Joseph had known for just over a year. However, instead of making him angry, it made him sad.

 

All his life he does so much to make his father happy and eventually all he had to do was get married and be a bitch to some man…

 

He closed his eyes at the surge of embarrassment and humiliation and almost missed his mother’s quiet entry back into the room.

 

She entered with a broom and made her way towards the cigarette ash scattered on the floor. Before she could put the broom to the floor, Joseph took a step back from Steve and took Sarah in his arms. He swooped in and kissed her and when they parted, he took the broom from her and gave her another kiss.

 

“No need, sweetheart. You go take some rest and I’ll handle this. After all it was my mess.”

 

Sarah gaped in shock at his warm tone and loving gesture but she didn’t budge. Joseph leaned down and kissed her again, swooping her up in his arms and placing a soft kiss to her forehead. Sarah smiled with tears in her eyes at the gesture. In all the time they’d been married… after all these years of abuse and humiliation…

 

She looked at Steve and smiled before she threw her arms around her husband’s neck and held him tightly. Steve knew the gesture for what it was, so did Joseph. Joseph turned towards Steve and smiled, not a happy smile like that of Sarah’s, but a threatening one, a frightening one. Steve knew what that was too, didn’t need to be told.

 

Don’t let me go, don’t change back to the man you were. Please stay. Please hold me like forever.

 

Break your word and I break her heart and a few bones…

 

And Steve knew which gesture to understand and which to follow.

 

**

5th of March 2020

 

He watched as people came and went, never stopping to sit but taking their coffee to go. He sat in a corner booth by himself, waiting for his fiancé to show up. There was hardly anybody else at the cafe, just a couple in the chairs by the door and the cute barista who had flashed Steve a kind smile when she came to give him his change back.

 

By the time she flashed him her third sympathetic smile of the day, Steve had had enough. He knows he fucking messed up. He knows he went back on a promise, a pretty huge one at that, but he wasn’t trying to hurt James. He'd called James immediately after the deal with his father, or rather Joseph had called him and Steve had taken over, and requested him to meet at the café. James had sounded pissed on the phone, if not a little heartbroken, and Steve knew he had to be the biggest asshole on the earth at that point. But he didn’t feel guilty about taking his father’s proposal, didn’t feel bad about the agreement that they had worked out, but he did feel bad about the tinge of hurt he heard in James’ voice.

 

The door to the café swung open then and James strode in. Dressed head to toe in black, he looked overtly handsome in the soft sunlight streaming in through the doors. Steve had earlier taken note of the fact that James was easy on the eyes, but that he was drop dead gorgeous, that had just settled in.

 

He stood up awkwardly as the brunette walked in and extended an arm for him to shake. James brushed past his arm and say down, gaze anywhere but at Steve and took a deep breath.

 

“Why did you want to meet?” he questioned in a cold voice, finally looking over at Steve as he took his seat.

 

Steve smiled at him, a little tentatively, but he didn’t return the smile. He raised an eyebrow in question and Steve sighed inwardly. This wasn’t going well.

 

James’ dark chocolate scent was a bit stale, agitation and irritation swirling in it and it made Steve’s anxiety spike a little. Had the café been a little more crowded, they would’ve drawn attention towards themselves, both with their sour scents and sour demeanours.

 

The blonde leans forward a little, folds his arms on the table between them and looks James in the eye, trying to convey sincerity through his eyes and words.

 

“James, I'm sorry. I…” he doesn’t get to finish, before James puts a hand up and stops him from continuing.

 

“Can it, Steve. I really don’t care about your apology.” The alpha growls in a rough voice, his agitated demeanour peaking through his scent and his gaze. The barista looks at Steve with worry when the scent reaches her but he smiles reassuringly at her and turns to James, tries to keep his scent and tone neutral as he speaks.

 

“Please. Listen to what I've to say.”

 

“Okay, I'm listening. Now give me a good reason why you went back on the word you gave me. Give me a good reason as to why you said something to me and went and did the exact opposite of that. Tell me why you and your dad suddenly became close enough for you to do exactly as he says.” The alpha lowers his voice and gains back control of his tone, his scent subsiding a little to convey only mild inconvenience and curiosity.

 

And Steve froze.

 

There was a good reason for what Steve did. For the decision he made. For the sacrifice he was willing to make. But he didn’t want to tell James any of that. Didn’t want James to know of his father’s abusive tendencies. Didn’t want James to know that his mother’s happiness and possibly her very life hinged on their marriage. He didn’t want to tell James about his mother’s refusal to see him or her rejection of Steve’s help. He didn’t want James to be privy of the deal he had made with his father, how he had blackmailed him, how Steve was and always would remain his father’s little bitch. Did not want to acknowledge to James, or to himself for that matter, that Steve's dad loved James more and not Steve. Did not want to tell James that Steve Rogers had no place in his parents’ life without being James’ spouse.

 

“I just changed my mind, that’s all.”  So, he didn’t. He didn’t tell him about anything. Just folded and refolded his arms and took a shaky breath without meeting James’ eye.  

 

“You changed your mind? Steve, I was honest with you. I told you about how much I wanted a real relationship, a loved one, an actual marriage. That’s honesty. What you're telling me now? That’s a lie. A fucking lie.” James drops his voice further, as he searches Steve's eyes for something. There’s a touch of concern and empathy, even as he calls Steve out on his bullshit. Steve doesn’t meet his eye, just leans back in his seat and pulls his hands into his lap.

 

“Does it matter, James. You owe your life to my dad and he's asking you to marry me. It’s not the end of the world, stop making it sound like it. It’s not that big of a deal.” He speaks in one breath, a whoosh of air that leaves his lungs before the words do. He focuses his gaze on a spot of dried coffee at the centre of the table and subtly smells the change of scents around him.

 

His scent is a little chaotic, a hint of apprehension to it.

 

James’ is pissed. Red hot and sizzling in the air around them.

 

“Sure. They’re not. Just some fucked up fantasies of a dude who lost his mind in Afghanistan. Let’s talk business, shall we?” he grits out and from his peripheral vison, Steve can see him glare. Can almost feel it scald his skin, his hair.

 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re here, aren’t we?” he shrugs and shifts in his seat to get comfortable. He looks at James and gestures for him to go on.

 

“I think we need to agree on some ground rules regarding our marriage. Just some basic do and don’ts.”

 

“Ground rules? You’re making it sound like some deal or something.” Steve chuckles a bit to relieve the tension in air, but it doesn’t get any reaction from James. He just looks Steve in the eye, his gaze intimidating and piercing, and answers in a cold, hard voice, tone dripping with challenge.

 

“Well, isn’t it?”

 

And Steve swallows and keeps quiet. There's no contradicting that tone, that voice, that argument. He's never been one to back down from a challenge, from a fight, but this didn’t seem, like one. This seemed like the only moment of truth so far in their interaction, an anchor for the rest of the conversation. At the end of the day, it was the truth. It was a fucking deal, an agreement, a promise. A fucked-up man, his fucked up not-son and a poor unassuming young man who got trapped in their family drama. That was what this was. A deal between those three.

 

There was nothing more to it, nothing humane, nothing personal, nothing intimate.

 

Steve sighs quietly and nods, sinks back a little in his seat and keeps his head up and forward.

 

“As I was saying, some ground rules. I’ll list mine first, then you can air your objections and anything else you might want to add. The ones we mutually agree on will be followed, others discarded or debated upon. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” He nods and James continues.

 

“Then let me start. Number one, there will be no grand wedding celebration or reception. We’ll be married at the court. Second, since we’ll be required to live together, we will live at my house. You may take the guest bedroom. Third, you’re responsible for your own mess, laundry and food. Stock the fridge with whatever you want to eat, eat it whenever you want. We’ll try to stay away from each other and each other’s life as much as possible. Fourth, if your friends are coming over, please warn me at least an hour in advance. If we must pretend to be a couple in front of them, warn me at least a day in advance. Fifth, mating cycles.” He paused for a deep breath and Steve held his own breath subconsciously.

 

 “I will leave the house during your heat and I expect the same of you during my rut. This one I'm afraid is non-negotiable and extremely important just like the next one. If either of us meets someone else, someone we can see a future with, then the other must agree to a divorce.”

 

He looks at Steve as he waits for the rules to sink in and the last two to make sense. James was not asking Steve to have kids with him, wasn’t even asking Steve to get him through his rut. He wasn’t assuming he got to fuck Steve through his heat either and nor was he denying either of them a chance at another relationship.

 

Steve stares at James in wonder, questioning, all he knows, as to why James was different. First the apologies, the blushing, the shyness. Then it was the thoughtfulness, the chivalry, the gentlemanly nature.

 

Given their situation, he could have easily demanded Steve to spend his heat with him or forced him to take him through his rut. He could have easily cut off Steve's relations with his friends or imposed a one-sided monogamy on him. Or at the very least, demand that Steve do all the household chores, be his good little housewife.

 

But he hadn’t. and Steve was eternally thankful. For everything, for James.

 

 

“That’s it. Any objections or suggestions?” James questioned, when Steve stayed silent for too long.

 

“Uh…no, I guess.” He shook his head and smiled shyly at the brunette. He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, mind still whirling from the freedom it had been given.

 

James had never looked more handsome.

 

“Okay well think it over. I've got to go, now.” James stood up immediately and Steve's heart panicked a little. He didn’t want James to leave right now, not when he was finally getting to know the man a little more. Was finally understanding that he wasn’t a bastard like his father. He wanted James to stay, to discuss this more, possibly become friends in the process. If they were going to be husbands, the least they could do was be friends.

 

He grabbed James’ bicep and looked at him with big blue eyes.

 

“Maybe you should stay for a cup of coffee. Their coffees are mind blowing.”

 

“Steve, please don’t interpret this as a friendly chat. If there is a person, I hate the most at this moment, it is you.”  James shook his hand off and turned away in disgust, his face twisting into a scowl at the action. Steve jerked back a little at the action, flinched at the words, but managed to not fall backwards completely. His mind and body reeled in that moment, repeating it over and over again in his head. By the time he regained his composure James had left the café and the stench of rotten dark chocolate and putrid vanilla was clogging the café.

 

The barista looked over at him, golden eyes shining with concern and sympathy, but Steve couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and left too, images of hate-filled grey eyes burned into his skull.

 

He didn’t blame James for it. He couldn’t.

 

**

Notes:

Read, leave kudos, comment and tell me how can I improve, what did you like from the chapter and how excited you are for the wedding. You're also free to tell me you hate the chapter ending or suggest ways to kill Joseph...

Chapter 3: Home is Where My Ma is

Notes:

Thank you for all the comments and the kudos guys. You're really encouraging me to keep writing and not give up midway. Thank you so much and hope you enjoy this very short update.

 8^th of March 2020

“Steve, dear, what’s wrong?” Steve jolts out of his thoughts at his mother’s voice. He turns towards her, standing at the door to his room, hands clasped in front of her and face the poster child for worry. He doesn’t know how he missed her entry into his room, especially when her scent is as stale it is with worry and anguish.

 

“Nothing ma, nothing’s wrong.” He shifts on his bed and pulls himself up on it from where he was sitting at the edge. In movies and the books that he has read, that is the cliché position for a character to brood in: sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows on their knees and face in their palms and Steve always finds himself imitating that.

 

“Are you sitting in the dark crying because nothing is wrong? That doesn’t seem right, honey.” She enters and sits next to him, back against the headboard and legs up on the bed. Steve shifts closer to her without meaning to and Sarah mirrors him immediately.

 

“It’s nothing really. Go to sleep ma, you must be tired.” He gestures vaguely to the door, even as he leans towards her.

 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Steve, I'm your mother, I deserve that much, at least right?” she questions quietly and Steve's thoughts freeze. He hasn’t heard her say that in so long. Ever since his 18^th birthday, ever since his father disowned him, he's never heard his mother say these words to him. Hasn’t seen her this concerned where he is concerned.

 

He swallows back the sob that threatens his throat and blinks back the tears that die to escape.

 

“You deserve the world, ma. You deserve much better than what you’ve got.” He replies quietly, his voice wobbly and rough with unshed moisture.

 

A charged silence follows the words, both omegas lost in their own heads. Steve doesn’t regret what he said, can’t, not when he knows the trauma his ma has undergone under his brute of a father, but that doesn’t mean he has any right to point that out to her. He remembers what happened the last, can’t forget the moment his mother chose his father over him, and that should’ve taught him not to meddle anymore, should’ve taught him to keep his opinions to himself and be happy he gets to sit next to her and lean on her for support. Be happy, she still cares about him, his problems.

 

“Is that why my son is sacrificing his dreams, hopes and youth for me? Because I didn’t get what I deserve?” Sarah’s whisper breaks the silence into a million shreds and stuns Steve into a prolonged silence. His mom was never supposed to know, was never to be privy to his deal with his father, was not meant to be made to feel like all this was her fault. He curses the asshole whose last name he bears and turns to look at his mother, face blank and as innocent as he can make it to be.

 

“What are you talking about ma? I'm doing nothing of that sort.”

 

“I'm not an idiot, honey. I can read between the lines when one day my husband starts being nice to me and simultaneously my son agrees to marry a man he doesn’t know. You don’t have to do this for me, Stevie. I’ve handled him so long, I can do it some more.”

 

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me; but those words did hurt Steve. Broke and trampled his heart. His mother, his poor mother. What she had undergone at the hands of his father, what she has lived through, what she is promising to handle in the future, is not something any mere individual could’ve gone through. Sarah was a strong woman, had raised Steve to be strong too, but she was trapped in a cruel world, bound by the shackles of tradition, custom and misogynistic opinions. A bonded omega separating from her mate was unheard of, especially one who bore her alpha a son and one as old as Sarah. Divorce was unheard of between mates, especially ones who had lived together so long. The court would demand reasons and the whole world would come to know of the atrocities his mother endured. However, that would not mean that they would understand, that his mother would not be ostracized, be shunned in a society where divorce was the devil.

 

 The tears he had fighting finally won and cascaded down his face in a victory dance. His lips wobbled as he faced his mother and his hands shook as he tried not to fist them and take that fist to his father’s face.

 

“You shouldn’t have to, mom. If there is a chance you don’t have to go through that again, I'm gonna make sure I take it. You deserve to not have to ‘handle’ him.”

 

“Stevie, you don’t have to be so strong for me, not when it’s hurting you so much. Your father won’t hurt me, I promise. I won’t let him hurt me. You don’t have to do this for me, honey. Please.” She wiped away his tears even as her own fell.

 

And that was his mother, always had been. Wiping away Steve's tears, even as her fell. Teaching Steve to be strong, even as she got weaker day by day. Asking Steve to stand up for himself, even as she fell. Asking Steve to have faith, even as she lost hers. Asking him to be everything she wanted to be, but couldn’t be. Wanting him to be nothing like her, even if it rained misery upon her, killed her.

 

He pulled her closer, or maybe she did, but they were in each other’s arms, seeking the strength, the solace they'd always found in each other. Tears streamed down their faces, intermixed, mingled, intertwined with the other’s as they made their way down, just like their fates were, their very life was. Steve held his mother tightly, closer than he ever had and sobbed into her thin shoulders, not sure how he had gone so long without this familiar warmth, her familiar scent.

 

 

“But I do, mom. Because he hates you so much because of me. Because I'm skinny and thin and weak. Because I'm not the alpha son he wanted. Because I could never make him proud of me. I'm a failure in his eyes, mom, and because of me, so are you. If I do this tomorrow, then you get to have a better life, a life you would’ve had, had I not been born. And I really want you to have that, come what may.” He said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her dress, even as the determination carried through.

 

 

“I don’t want a life where you’re not born as my son, Stevie. I'm proud of you, my love. Proud of the man you’ve grown up to be, proud of the son I've raised, the fighter that was born to me. What he thinks or feels doesn’t matter, honey, you make my life the best its ever been. You make it better by just being in it.” She pulled back and looked him in the eye, wiped away any tears that the cloth hadn’t soaked up and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. She smiled at him and he returned it, and albeit the tears that still shone in their eyes and lingered on their cheeks, the smiles were not unhappy ones.

 

“Thanks mom. Thank you so much…” he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquillity that had settled between them. he leaned against his mother’s shoulder again, hid his face in her neck and took a deep breath, breathing her scent in, inhaling the grounding sweetness of it, taking in the memories of past bullies at the playground to rude alphas on the streets. Her scent and this position are a constant in all of those. After every fight, every bruise, every broken nose, he would always return here, back to his mother, back to the loving embrace that’s always waiting for him. No matter what he undergoes, she’s always been his rock, his constant, his home…

 

So, it’s not surprising that on a day like today, less than 12 hours away from his ‘marriage’, he needs his mother and needs her badly. He takes another breath and it all comes tumbling out.

 

The thoughts that have kept him awake the past few days, the fears he has for his future, the dreams and hopes that he has buried in the past, the apprehension of living with a stranger, the inherent fears of being reduced to an alpha’s mate and nothing else, James’ declaration of hate, his father’s declaration of hate, his mother’s plight. His own poor sodden luck, his own sickly omega self, his unsure and unsafe artistic career, his life…

 

With the scary thoughts, comes the salty tears and the broken sobs. Before he knows it, he's wheezing for breath, his airways are blocked and every breath seems like a stone in his throat. He tries to breath in, tries to fill his pathetic lungs with oxygen, air, anything, but all it does is hurt him some more, induce more tears, more sobs.

 

“It’s okay, honey. Breathe, c’mon Stevie. Breathe with me.” He can hear his mom’s voice, too close but too far and he subconsciously tries to follow the voice. He feels her breathe in and out and does the same on autopilot, his chest rising and falling identical to hers. As he breathes in, he can smell her scent, calm, soothing, at peace and it makes him feel so much better. It’s a comforting smell of familiarity, of solidarity, of care, of maternity and above all of love. It’s safety and security and Steve finds himself calming down gradually, taking deeper breaths, steadying himself, coming back to himself. But he doesn’t let up from his slump, isn’t ready to move away from his mother just yet.

 

“There you go, baby, feeling better?” Sarah rubs his back gently. Her small palm just sliding down his back in broad swipes from the nape to the small of his back, the motion so rhythmic and periodic that he finds himself going boneless, melting into his mother’s side. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was still holding and feels any lingering tension drain away.

 

“Yeah. Can I ask you something?” he doesn’t raise his head to look at his ma, just closes his eyes and tries to imagine the face she must be making right now. Face stoic, a bare hint of smile at her lips and blue eyes drowning in unshed tears and worry.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Was dad always like this, angry, abusive, unkind?” he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, tries not to inhale his ma’s scent too deeply. He braces himself to be pushed away, just like she had a couple of days ago, and for the scent to go stale and putrid. But none of that happens, the scent remains the same, her hands still rub warmth and love into his body and she still keeps him pressed close to herself. When she starts speaking, Steve can feel the vibration till his very core.

 

“No. He was very kind, loving, always so cheerful. Used to take me on the sweetest dates ever, always bought me those red roses I used to like. Would tell me daily about how much he liked the blue of my eyes and red of my cheeks. I would blush like crazy upon hearing it and he would chuckle at that. He was one of the best men I knew.” She sighed forlornly at the past, the gush of breath leaving Steve breathless. He had never known… had always wondered why his mother loved such a cruel man, had put up with him all these years.

 

He can not imagine the old Joseph, the one his mother is describing, cannot even begin to think that that man and his father are similar in any way. In the years that he can remember, he has always known joseph to be cruel, impolite, brash and violent and it is impossible to put the image of such a man with the one his ma describes: kind, loving, cheerful…

 

“What changed, ma? Why is he like this now?” a small part of him feels like it knows the answer, waits for it with bated breath. The less misogynistic part argues against it, tells him to be kinder to himself, a little braver and to trust in himself.

 

The misogynist wins anyway…

 

“The war. It changes people, Stevie. Makes them cold and hard. It did the same to your father too. It made him afraid and paranoid and when he came back home from it one summer, all he could think about was having a son and continuing the family name. He was so scared that once he went back, he would never return and his family name would end with that. Get lost in oblivion. After that time, I've never seen him smile the way he used to. Hasn’t said a nice word to me in so long. It wasn’t you, darling, it was the war that made your father hate me. Don’t give yourself that credit.” She tells him softly, her voice steady but thoughts elsewhere, back in the old days, with the younger, kinder Joseph.

 

The misogynist in him stills at the news, maybe sheds a tear or two. The other part of him jumps a little, smiles, maybe even claps. He didn’t do it, he's not the reason behind his father’s cruel jabs and violent streaks. He wasn’t the one who broke his parents’ relationship, isn’t the one who send his father off a destructive streak either.

 

Before a smile can break out on his face, the less awake but smarter part of his brain catches up. The war broke his father, his parents’ relationship, his relationship with his father, the family that they could’ve been. He's heard of this, PTSD they'd called it at the mental health seminar he attended in high school, but he had never connected the dots with his father. But even as he understands the reason the man is the way he is, he can’t bring himself to forgive him for the things he’s done. War couldn’t excuse the atrocities Sarah and he have undergone under him, nothing ever could. But he doesn’t hate it any less. Hates it for all that it took away from him: his father, his mother, his happy family and his future.

 

“Do you think war changes everyone?”

 

“No. Some are stronger than others, Stevie. They don’t succumb so hard and fast. They go through the hardships of war and come back stronger, more humane, more human than ever. Those are the people who don’t fight for themselves, for their own life, they fight for the people who are waiting for them back home, the hopes and dreams that they leave behind. Those people can’t be defeated by war, Stevie, they will always win.” She presses a small kiss to his temple and he nods a little into her shoulder.

 

He knows what she’s saying. What they both are thinking. What plagues their minds, but what they both won’t ask. He thinks it anyway, despite his wish, his prayer, his hope.

 

Didn’t his father also leave his wife behind? Didn’t he have hopes and dreams of starting a family with her? Didn’t he fight for them, their relationship, a family they could’ve had?

 

And then another face comes to mind, unbidden and forbidden. He doesn’t try to shake the image, lets it take over the back of his eyelids and waits for the full form to emerge before asking further.

 

“Do you think James was strong enough? Do you think the war changed him?” he turns his head to the side, so it makes it easier for him to look at his mother’s face. She anticipates the movement, maybe even the question, and looks down at Steve's face, pushes a golden lock off his forehead and back as she smiles softly, almost mischievously.

 

“Depends. Did he fight for himself or did he leave something behind?” she questions back, her gaze heavy on his own and he finds himself wanting to look away and hide. He doesn’t, just takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, turns her words over and over in his head and interposes some of it with the two conversations he’s had with the alpha.  

 

“He talked about wanting to date, wanting to fall in love and then have a wedding. Seemed pretty excited about it too. All shy and coy. Do you think they were enough to save him from war? Keep him the way he was?” the smile that pulls at his lips when he talks about the shy alpha, melts from his face at the mention of war. His voice goes a little anxious at the end, a little scared, a bit frightened at the prospect of the brunette in the midst of war and Sarah picks up on it because she immediately starts rubbing soothing circles on his back.

 

“Maybe. If what you say is true and he was acting all coy and shy, then maybe war didn’t win against him, honey. Maybe he's still a good man. Maybe a great man.” She reassures immediately and feels Steve relax at the touch, melt into her side again.

 

“He is ma, he really is.” He told her all about the conditions he put forward, the schedule for their mating cycles, the rules with the dating and the divorce. He feels himself glow as he talks about how understanding James was, how he didn’t want to push Steve into a sexual relationship even though he could’ve and how he's letting them both keep their dreams of a loved one open.

 

 

As soon as he tells her, her words come back to him. James fought a war for his future, survived guns and bombs for his dreams, fought off soldiers and nightmares for his hopes and Steve destroyed them in a heartbeat. He cursed the war a while back for what it did to his family, how it destroyed the happy family that he could’ve had. A loving father and a happy mother, who were snatched away from him, without realising that he was the war in James’ narrative. James lost an arm for their country but still made it out alive to live the life he’d wanted, a love, a marriage, a family and Steve had destroyed it in a second, had made it all about himself and not about the young sarge who once had a dream.

 

If Steve could blame the war for everything, then James could blame him.

 

Had (rightfully) blamed him.

 

“He sounds like a great guy, honey. Then why are you so upset? Why all the tears, Stevie?” he hadn’t realised he'd started crying, hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks. Sarah wipes them away softly, rubs under his eyes softly till he looks at her again and takes a steadying breath, tears still falling as reality washes over him.

 

“Does it matter, James. You owe your life to my dad and he's asking you to marry me. It’s not the end of the world, stop making it sound like it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

“Sure. They’re not. Just some fucked up fantasies of a dude who lost his mind in Afghanistan.”

 

 

 

 

“If there is a person, I hate the most at this moment, it is you.”

 

 

“Because he hates me ma. Hates that I ever agreed to this marriage. And he has every right to. I fucked up. Whatever kept him alive, brought him back home, I snatched it away. Threw it all away.” He wheezes as he talks, having always seen himself as the hero of his own story, he never expected to be turned into the villain of somebody else’s, little sobs and big tears still breaking out to the surface as he runs their last meeting in his head.

 

Sarah rubs his back, places a soft kiss to his forehead and rests her chin at the top of his head, closes her eyes and pulls Steve a little closer, a little tighter.

 

“He’ll forgive you, honey. He’ll come around, dear. The good guys do.”

Notes:

A few important things about this chapter:
1. I'm not defending or excuse Joseph's character through PTSD. He is a horrible human being and deserves punches and other things you all and I want to do to him, but this is Sarah's POV. This is how she sees her husband, a poor guy who lost his way due to war.
2. I know this is a short chapter and probably shitty (I sincerely apologise for that) but I think it is important to the rest of the narrative, since this is the first time Steve is realising how bad he fucked up.
3. I love my mom, very much and this is how we are when I'm stressed or panicking. And I really wanted this scene to be there as a little tribute to my mom.

Again, I'm sorry if the chapter sucks and you did not like it.

Please comment, leave kudos, promote the story on social media and please keep reading. I really enjoy reading your comments.

 

The fun part is beginning soon...

Chapter 4: An Honest Beginning

Notes:

VERY VERY IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ. PLEASE.

Recently I received a comment. The comment pointed out that Joseph was not an asshole and that I had made him to be one, by placing him in a misogynistic setting. It basically said that I had created a world where only men could be alphas and that was the reason Joseph was a dick to Steve.
And that prompted me to go back and read the story to see where I'd insinuated such a thing. It was in the first chapter.
There is a line/paragraph which mentions how Joseph wants a son, so that he can grow up an alpha and join the military. I read it and for a second even I thought only men could be alphas. I sincerely apologise for that misconception, because that is not what I meant.

In this universe, anybody can be an alpha, anybody can be an omega or a beta. What I wanted to convey was that in a comparison between primary genders, the society still perceives men to be superior to women, as in, if there is a male alpha and a female alpha, the male alpha will be considered superior because of his primary gender.

Female alphas can be there, will be there, and I did not mean to convey that they would not be. Joseph wants a son and he wants the son to be an alpha. He does not want a son just to be an alpha; he wants an alpha son.

In the country, that I'm from, this is a very common practice. Female infanticide, female foeticides are very common, because nobody wants a female child. She is construed to be a burden and I guess nobody wants to carry it. It's heartbreaking and cruel, and that was what i wanted to convey here. I'm sorry if that is not what came through.

On a personal note, the comment did upset me, but it also pointed out a major flaw with the story. I thank the person who commented and I also apologise for deleting it. I was insensitive and not receptive to criticism, when I should've been. But, I'm also not gonna lie and say that it did not make me wanna quit.

I'll try to go back and edit the story out a little to include all this, but, if on the off chance I don't, I want you guys to keep all this in mind.

This chapter comes at the back of some major self doubt and self esteem issues, so it probably sucks and I apologise in advance.

I also didn't mean to make such a huge deal out of a comment, but they have always been so important to me. They encourage me to keep writing and are probably the reason I update so frequently. I'm not trying to make anybody feel bad for anything, just clearing the air a little.

Also, so sorry for the late update. nothing I wrote seemed good.

So, sorry and thank you...

9^th of March 2020

It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and cheery and the birds chirped in a melody Sarah had not heard in a while. The court buzzed and bristled with the people inside, some police men in uniforms, others attorneys in suits and majority were common folks in their best attire. Sarah looked around her, the irony that it was a perfect day for a wedding not going unnoticed by her, as she tried to replaced the drabness inside with the colour outside.  

 

She looked at her son, sitting in a bench with a noose- tie hanging around his neck and his face pulled into the deepest scowl she had ever seen, and fought back a tear. This was never supposed to happen; her Steve was never supposed to be waiting at a court to marry a man he barely knew, just to keep her happy. He was supposed to find a partner who would sweep him off his feet, have a huge ass wedding and run off into the sunset like the actors in cheesy rom-coms did. He was supposed to be drowning in love and happiness, not in debt and grief.

 

Unable to take it anymore she walked out of the court, only to stop at the stairs leading out. On the top most step, lost in thought with a frown pulling on his features, sat James. His hair looked like he'd been running his hands through them the whole way over and his clothes were proof enough that he had spent the greater part of the day pacing back and forth.

 

She walked up to him and sat next to him, even the movement not pulling him out of his trance like state. She placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly and carefully, befitting a vet, and squeezed gently.

 

“James.” He jostled out of his thoughts, his arms immediately going for her wrists like reflex and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights. His already agitated scent had gone to panicked and back and all Sarah could do was flinch and duck. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to hit her, she smiled a little and tried to force her panicked scent to neutrality.

 

It seemed to do the trick after a minute or so. James dropped her wrist and gave her a small, embarrassed smile, his face opening minutely in familiarity and recognition.

 

“Oh. Good morning ma’am.” He shuffled back a little as if to make space for her to sit, even as his straight shoulders hunched a little as if screaming to be left alone. Sarah stood there for a second, contemplating and deciphering the young man in front of her and finally decided to sit down.

 

“Would it be appropriate for me to wish you a good morning too?” she asked quietly, studying his face intently.

 

 James opened his mouth to answer immediately, on reflex, but something in Sarah’s expression stopped him, killed the instinctual answer on his tongue.

 

“No ma’am, I don’t think it would be.” He answered softly, his deep voice too quiet to be heard outside the little bubble they were in.

 

“I'm sorry, James. I'm really sorry for all this.” And she means every word, every last letter.

 

She’s sorry for the dark circles under James’ eyes, the tears her son shed yesterday, the sour scents of both of them, for the nervous wrangling of James’ hands and the clenching and unclenching of Steve's. She’s sorry for Steve's sacrifice and James’ broken dreams. She’s sorry on behalf of her cruel husband, and on behalf of herself, a voiceless wife. She’s sorry for the veteran James and her son, Steve.

 

“I'm sure it’s not your fault.” She looks at him and he gives her a small smile, his shoulders opening again. He places a hand over her own and squeezes softly, gives her a brighter smile when the action doesn’t put a smile on her face.

 

 

“Trust me when I say I'm more to blame than anybody else.” She urges, her voice going higher than before, her demeanour that of a confessing accused.

 

Because, she is to blame. She is to be blamed for ever falling in love with a brute like Joseph. She is to be blamed for ever marrying him and mating with him. She is to be blamed for letting him kill three of her children even before they had a chance to be born. She is to blamed for putting up with his abusive ways and never walking away. She is to be blamed for ever letting him touch Steve. She is to be blamed for letting his madness get blown to such degrees. She is to be blamed for not taking her son’s side. She is to be blamed for choosing Joseph over Steve. She is to be blamed for wanting her husband’s affection more than her son’s happiness.

 

And in the quiet of the night, as she stares at the ceiling of her bedroom, she can quietly admit to herself that she is to blame for trying to convince her son that the war changed Joseph, that he was ever a good man, that he ever loved her. Because he never was. He was never a good man, he never loved her and the war had no role to play in making him the cruel, heartless monster he was. Because when she blames the war, she doesn’t have to blame herself. Doesn’t have to admit to Steve that she is a basic omega at the end of the day, bound to her mate despite the cruelties, that she can’t leave because she doesn’t know what to do without Joseph, how to live without him, how she’s still desperate for her mate’s love, approval…

 

 

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.” James’ voice pulls her out of her reverie and she shuts her eyes tightly to prevent tears. She ignores his comment and goes to the question she wanted to ask.

 

“Do you believe Steve is to blame?”

 

When he doesn’t answer for a while, she opens her eyes to look at him. James had turned away, his eyes on the steps in front of them, but mind elsewhere. There were questions in his eyes and doubts in the set of his lips. He took a deep breath and tried to run his hands down his face, only to realise he was still holding Sarah’s hand in his. He stared at the hand in wonder and she squeezed his hand. He looked at her immediately.

 

“He tried to convince me he is.” He said at last, his voice emotionless yet heavy with something else. She tried to decipher what it was, but failed miserably as he too forced his scent into neutrality.

 

“Did he succeed?”

 

“No. no ma’am, he didn’t. Something just doesn’t sit right, something does not seem right.” He confessed and Sarah jumped at the opportunity to tell him the truth.

 

 

“That’s because it’s not right. He's not to blame at all James. He's a victim to all this, just as you are.”

 

Before she could continue, James cut in, his tone urgent and voice deeper than before. A typical alpha growl, “Why? How?”

 

“If his father could manipulate you into doing this, how hard do you think it was for him to do the same to Steve?”

 

James’ face changed shades in front of her eyes, as the darkness of uncertainty and doubt gave way to the brightness of realisation. But the brightness was too short lived as the realisation fully sunk in and he realised his mistake. Sarah remembers Steve telling her about James’ cold attitude at the café and she knows he's feeling bad about that, at having told Steve that he hated him. She moves closer to him and pats his hand twice, smiles at him when he looks up. 

 

“I didn’t know- I'm so sorry.” He apologises fervently but she stops him with a hand on his shoulder and a small smile.

 

“It’s okay son. It’s not your fault. Just, please be kind to him. Don’t hate him for all this.”

 

It’s okay son. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Be kind to him, because his dad and I never were. Don’t hate him for all this, hate me because this is my selfishness. Don’t hate him, because hate is all he’s seen, all his life. Don’t hate him, because he doesn’t deserve it, I do.

 

But it all goes unsaid, unheard. She looks down in embarrassment and fights tears with all she has. James takes her hand of his shoulder and holds both her hands in his and smiles at her, waits till she lifts her head and smiles back at him, before speaking. 

 

“I don’t hate him, ma’am. I never have.  I'm really sorry for whatever happened, I really am.”

 

His voice drips with sincerity and for the first time since Joseph dropped this bomb on them, she’s at peace. Her son’s going to be safe with James, she knows it, can feel it in her bones. James is kind, soft-hearted and well behaved. Even if Steve can’t find his happiness with James, maybe he can find a friend, a corner he can always turn to. Even if twenty years of his life were a pile of shit, maybe the succeeding won’t be.

 

She trusts James, like a son, to be there for her son.

 

“No more ma’am, son. We’re family now, you can call me ma.”

 

And with the way his eyes sparkle with happiness and his scent sings, she knows she’d done the right thing. She probably didn’t deserve James, but maybe James did deserve a mother.

 

“Ma…” his voice wobbles dangerously and she feels it in her very core. He doesn’t have anyone and this broken, shitty family that he's been dragged into is his only one. She feels her heart ripping, her maternal instincts taking over. She moves closer to him and pulls him into her arms, lets him tuck his head into her shoulder and he lets her hold him, kindly, lovingly.  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbles and she shushes him, sways them side to side and pets his hair gently.  

 

“You're a good man James. Take care of yourself.”  She lets go of him and stands up, offers him a hand to do the same. He takes her hand and pulls himself up, looks her in the eye and smiles at her, all pearly whites on display.  

 

“You too ma- ma. You too…” and Sarah walks away, pretending not to see the lone tear that rolls down James’ eye at the term, at the word ma…

 

***

 

The day passes in a flurry of events. At some point he remembers signing the papers, remembers shaking hands with some guy who thought Steve and he made a great couple, remembers Joseph pulling him into a hug and saying something that felt eerily similar to family, remembers Steve watching his every move with apprehension and something else, remembers smiling at Sarah- ma and wishing her goodbye, remembers getting into his car and realising there would be another person sitting beside him now, remembers that he is a husband now and that he is married to Steve.

 

Steve…

 

An omega he hardly knows. A man he has seen a sum total of two times. A guy who he knows nothing about and who knows nothing about him. All he knows is that this whole marriage is a compromise, a situation they’ve both been manipulated into. He was trapped with a promise he couldn’t break, by a man to whom he owes his life. Steve was trapped, how he doesn’t know, but by his father no less.

 

He pauses with his key in the ignition and turns to look at Steve. The omega is a mess, to put it lightly, and it worries him. He doesn’t want to, but it does. Steve's scent is all over the place too: anxious, worried, sad, afraid…

 

“Are you scared of me, Steve?” he asks before he can stop himself, his eyes immediately widening at the realisation of what he just asked. He tries to avert his eyes, look anywhere but at Steve who looks like a deer caught in headlights, but the baby blue eyes of the blonde trap him, hold his gaze even in a haze of fear and embarrassment.

 

“What? No, I…” the blonde stammers and James knows he's right on the mark. He considers letting it go, but given the talk he's had with Sarah today, he just can’t. He doesn’t know their entire family history, hell he doesn’t know anything about their family, but he can take a wild guess… if Steve did not have a good relationship with the alpha he grew up with, then he should at least have a good relationship with the alpha he is going to be living with.

 

“You can lie, but your scent can’t. Why are you afraid?” he offers a friendly smile and keeps his face as open and welcoming as he can. Steve looks at him for a second and sighs resignedly, averting his eyes to look out the windshield.  

 

“I'm sorry. It’s just that, we decided on how we wanted to proceed with this marriage, but, what if we’re unable to stick with it? What if…”

 

And James knows what he is talking about. Can guess at least some of the fears that haunt him. They are the same fears that kept him up all night, made him go for a run at 3 in the morning. He wats till Steve looks back at him and gives him another smile, a little smaller than before, a little bit more strained.

 

“What if we actually never find the one and are stuck with each other forever?” he completes Steve's statement.

 

“Uh… yeah, I guess.” The blonde shrugs and goes to turn away but James stops him with his voice.

 

“Then I guess, we make the best out of it and be thankful we don’t have to die alone. I'm pretty great company, you know. Karaoke king, masterchef, hell they even call me hilarious huckster.” He used to be all that before the war. Now, he doesn’t know. Guess he’ll find out. He chuckles in an attempt to get Steve to loosen up, maybe believe him, but the blonde doesn’t even crack a smile, just looks at James with something indecipherable in his eyes before looking away and keeping mum.

 

James waits for him to say something, speak., even maybe just sigh. But Steve remains quiet, his demeanour aloof and even his scent goes unnaturally neural. The brunette exhales sharply and starts the car.

 

It’s another ten minutes before they speak again.

 

“Even if you hate me?” Steve's voice comes out as a tiny squeak, hardly audible, but it still shatters the uncomfortable silence that bad settled between them.

 

James remembered the coffee shop with a sudden jolt. He had been so cruel to Steve, had been an absolute bastard and taken out all his agitation on the poor guy. He'd been angry with Steve's dishonesty, he knew the omega was lying, but that hadn’t given him any right to express it in such a harsh manner. He remembers shaking off Steve's hand, saying how much he hated him and then storming off without looking back. He'd made an already upset guy, even more miserable.

 

And of course, he was worried about that, he was afraid James would act on his hatred.

 

 “I'm sorry Steve. I really am. I was just a little shocked at the news and I didn’t process it well and then I took it out on you. I'm so sorry. I know I was an asshole and I sincerely apologise. Sorry.” He looks at Steve from the corner of his eye, but tries to keep his eyes on the road as much as possible. He hopes his voice is sincere enough and that Steve will forgive him.

 

“It was not your fault, James-” the blonde begins, but James interrupts him.

 

“No, none of that. It was my fault and I should have never said those things to you. Maybe you can accept my apology and we can move on?”

 

“Apology accepted. Friends?” Steve asks a little tentatively and James cringes ta the fear that still lingers. He checks to see if the road ahead of them is clear and then turns his head sideways to smile brightly at Steve.

 

He offers the blonde his hand to shake and grins in delight when he takes it.

 

“Friends.” He announces with a flourish and it is totally worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs and the air around them is cleared off the lingering stench of fear and apprehension.

 

***

 

The rest of the way they spend in companionable silence. Steve spends his time staring out the window, marveling in the greenery, lapping up at the sight of cute dogs and beautiful people. James spends the time stuck in his own head.

 

It was easy to get lost in his head. It was second nature to lose himself in the dark images of his past, of his lost childhood, of his family, of his time in the army. But today he found himself getting lost in the man sitting beside him, in his past, his family, his unfortunate marriage.

 

James was a soldier and good at what he did. As a sergeant he was a role model to his comrades, a great sniper and a strategist. He was extremely good at observing enemy behaviour and he could plan and strategize around any given situation. Given his skill set it was not hard for him to decipher that there was something wrong in the Rogers’ household, from the very first time he saw them.

 

He remembers the stale scents that clogged their house on the day he went to see Joseph. He remembers smelling anxiety, fear, grief, apprehension, tension, anger and hatred in that air. Remembers the clogged feeling it left him in. He vividly remembers Joseph’s strained smile as he opened the door and Sarah running into the kitchen as he walked in. He remembers the lingering scent of her heart wrenching grief and tears. He remembers noticing the brooding omega in the corner of the living room, the plethora of emotions coming off him in waves. Vividly remembers the scent of hatred and anger that he threw off and remembers the way Joseph was sneering at him.

 

He had immediately understood that he had walked in in the midst of some family drama, a fight perhaps but Joseph’s happy scent had thrown him off again. He regrets ignoring the warming signs, especially Joseph’s icy demeanour towards his family.

 

Once he had been betrothed to marry Steve, there was no mistaking the fury of the omega. He had screamed at his father, made a public announcement of disobeying him and stormed off. He knew immediately that Steve was no ordinary omega, not one to stop, drop and roll at an alpha’s command and he had felt weirdly proud at that, attracted even.

 

He remembers running after Steve, apologising for his compromised position and asking Steve to save them both from this predicament. It was not typical alpha behaviour on his part too, but he had never been one of those alphas who believed that they always had to be the knight in shining armour to an omega in distressed. He had seen the same realisation in Steve’s eyes during their conversation.

 

After that great conversation, he'd been a little more than surprised at Steve’s behaviour in the coffee shop. He had a small inkling that something had happened in the time between their last talk and this meeting to change Steve's mind and he knew whatever happened had to be drastic, but he hadn’t expected Steve to shut him out. He had honestly believed that Steve would confide in him, but he hadn’t and that angered him, hurt the alpha ego in him. Despite not wanting to be a saviour to Steve he had at least wanted to be a friend. He had confided in Steve, had told him of his sappy all-American dream and he had expected Steve to do the same, at least reveal what had caused him to go back on what was essentially a promise he made to James.

 

Steve hadn’t and James lost his shit. He regrets it, but in his defence, he's never liked liars.

 

But today, after what was a really honest and trying conversation with Sarah, he sees where he went wrong. He misjudged Joseph, his conviction to make this marriage happen. Sarah had never specified what joseph had threatened Steve with or how he had manipulated him, but he could take a guess. He could see it in her eyes, in her chaotically neutral scent, could see it in the tears she fought not to shed.

 

She was the bait, the dangling fish that Joseph had tempted Steve with. How, he doesn’t know and why, he isn’t sure he wants to know, but if there is a chance, he could help both of them, since either is apparently not an option, he will do it.

 

And he's not an idiot. He can see the signs of abuse in both of them. He can see it in the way Steve flinches every time he gets too close, can see it in the widening of his eyes when James moves too suddenly, could see it in the tremble of his limbs when James got angry. He can see it in the resignation in Sarah’s shoulders, the careful way in which she approached him, the way she almost begged him to be kind to Steve.

 

He wants to help them, wants to save them from the Joseph, whom he's seeing to be the brute he is.

 

And it’s not the alpha in him, it’s the human.

 

But for that, he needs to do something else first.

 

 “Steve, listen. No offence, but I know our interactions never seem to be fully honest and we both have great communication issues. Going into this new relationship, friends or spouses, however you wanna call it, I think we must resolve that. Maybe, you know make a promise to be honest with each other. Maybe not about things that are personal, but at least things that affect the both of us. Because, once we commit ourselves to do this, we can’t storm out every time there is a misunderstanding or a communication gap. We cannot call it our wish or yell ‘I hate you’ at each other. We need to start talking things out like adults so that we have a chance for a real friendship here. Don’t you think so?” he stopped the car in front of his house and turned to look at Steve, who was still looking outside. For a second James thought he had not heard him and was going to repeat himself but before he could begin Steve turned his head and looked him in the eye, his face sporting the tiniest of smiles, shy and hesitant.

 

“Yeah, you're right. Though it doesn’t seem fair that you're taking part of the blame when you’ve always been honest with me. You even told me about your little American dream. I seem to be the one who always messes it up. I'm sorry.” He spoke softly, looking down in shame at the end of his words.

 

James moved closer to him, waited till he looked back up and then reached forward to lay his palm over Steve's.

 

“It’s not your fault, you hardly know me. You might not want to tell me everything and that’s okay. But, let’s not dwell on the past, okay? New marriage, new times.” He grinned at the end of the sentence and sighed internally when Steve returned the gesture. He took his hand back and removed the key from the ignition, mulling his next words over in his head and blurting it out before he could back out.

 

“Do you wanna kick start the whole honestly thing right now? Give it a try?” he hoped Steve would speak about the compromise, his feelings on this whole thing, maybe, by a very long shot, might even talk about how his father convinced him to do this. He had given Steve an opening to talk about anything he wanted to, his father, his childhood, the hints of abuse he's picked up on. But he also knows he gave Steve a loophole not to talk about personal issues and he knows Steve enough to know he's going to use the loophole.

 

 

“The house is beautiful, breath-taking even. And that is an honest statement.” Steve smiles at him and James can see the smallest hint of a wall being taken down between them. There are still innumerable more walls, some moats and possibly some crocodile infested waters between them, but it’s a start in the right direction and he’ll take what he can get.

 

“It was my parents’. Just got it back.” He can see the questions in Steve's gaze, how his lips almost tremble with the need to ask, but he doesn’t. And James is thankful for that.

 

The personal question loophole is after all, not just for Steve.

 

“Shall we?” he questions as he gestures towards the house and Steve nods. Bucky unlocks the door and Steve exhales softly.

 

“Yes, we shall.”

***

Notes:

SO... MANY REVEALS!!!!!!

What do you guys think of Sarah now? And are Steve and Bucky gonna keep their marriage all honest and good?

ALSO IMPORTANT NOTE:
I don't mean to make everybody in the story a bad guy. Joseph is an asshole and Sarah is also not that great a character, however, I don't think everyone is gonna be like that. I'm trying to make them seem like real people and keep this as original as possible. Real people have agendas, some personal, some impersonal. They're not always good or bad and I wanted my characters to have that too. So, most probably all characters are gonna be a shade of grey...

(If you thought of a fifty shades of grey joke after that last line, you and I can be best friends)

Don't forget to leave some love, kudos and comments...

Chapter 5: Happy Birthday Buck

Summary:

It is Bucky's birthday but, who the hell is Bucky?

Notes:

I know I'm very very late and I apologise for the delay. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Also you should thank Sebastian Stan for this update ;))))

 

@Sissy2D might have taken note of a suggestion of yours XD

10^th March 2020

12:01 am

Steve blinks his eyes open, his hand blindly searching for the phone he's half sure he left on the side table, his head plastered on the pillow. He sits up in bed at the second peal of the doorbell and scrambles out of bed by the third. He's in a pair of flannel pyjamas and a plain white shirt but that doesn’t prevent him from opening the door and stumbling out into the hall- its not a hall, but a hallway and Steve is suddenly reminded of the fact that its not his little apartment that he lives in anymore. It’s James’ house, the two storey house with the small garden out front and a big but cosy hall and three bedrooms. It’s not his open kitchen- one bedroom shithole but a huge kitchen, separate dining room and living room family house. 

 

He sighs to himself but continues his way downstairs anyway, pausing at the sudden sounds in the house and multiple scents. He recognises James’ voice before he notices the chocolate scent, happy, elated and a tad bit worried. He then hears a woman, alpha from the scent: strong peppermint scent also doused in happiness. He then hears the shrill sound of another man, alpha too, scent that of fresh honey.

 

He considers turning back and going upstairs, but before he can turn back, a man with blonde hair and a purple hoodie walks into the hall and spots him. It’s the honey scented alpha he smelled earlier and Steve is frozen in place till the man screams and draws the attention of the others.

 

“There’s a stranger in here.”

 

James runs into the hall, his gaze falling on the alpha blonde before moving to the omega blonde. He sighs deeply and shakes his head in exasperation before signalling for the alpha to sit down and Steve to come down.

 

“Who’s this guy?” the blonde man points a finger at him accusatorily even as his curiosity is guided towards James. James comes over to stand beside Steve and gestures towards him with a flourish of his hands.

 

“Guys, this is Steve. Steve these are my friends, Natasha and Clint.”  He points to the woman first, red head, drop-dead gorgeous, who simply raises an eyebrow in greeting and then to Clint who looks way to excited to meet Steve.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Steve says and waves awkwardly at them, his social skills flying out the window at the sight of the intimidating wo- Natasha. He stops his waving and instead smiles at both of them, who to his relief return them.  

 

“Me too.” Clint says and walks over to shake Steve's hand. He gives Steve another smile and walks into the kitchen after snatching a box out of James’ hand. The brunette doesn’t even bat an eyelash, just turns to Steve with an apologetic smile and a nervous energy. 

 

“I’m so sorry we disturbed your sleep. I completely forgot these assholes were gonna crash here. Not that I knew in the first place, but really I should’ve guessed.” He murmurs nervously, his eyes not meeting Steve's at all. Steve goes to reply but gets interrupted by Clint, who comes barrelling in from the kitchen, two glasses of wine balanced precariously in his hands and a bottle of wine held in his armpit.

 

James shakes his head in frustration and pulls the bottle out from under his arm and sets it down on the table, eyeing the glasses in Clint’s hands with a suspicious glare. He shoots Natasha an undecipherable look and she elegantly plucks both glasses out of Clint’s hands and places them onto the table.

 

“You can go back to sleep if you want, I’ll try to keep them quiet. Or, if you want, you can stay down here and cut the cake with us, have some wine?” he continues after the small interruption, his nervous demeanour falling a little but still present in the nervous wrangling of his hands.

 

Steve finds it too adorable on a mature, alpha male.

 

“Cake and champagne? What are you guys celebrating?” he asks James, who immediately averts his eyes and clears his throat.

 

“James’ birthday. You didn’t know that?” Natasha questions from the couch, her legs perched on top of the coffee table and her fingers wrapped around the glass of wine. She raises one perfect eyebrow at him and Steve had never felt more intrigued and scared by the same woman.

 

He’s so flustered by the single gesture that he misses everything she said to him, including the fact that it’s James’ birthday.

 

“Jesus Christ, Natasha. Don’t do that.” James chides from beside him and she immediately drops the eyebrow, muttering to herself about having to be nice to everyone and shooting James a glare from the back of her glass.

 

“Yeah Buckaroo’s turning the big 25.” Clint chimes in from beside Natasha, his body dragged down the couch in a half lying, half sitting position as he tries to reach the glass of wine with the least possible movement possible.

 

Steve's ready to bet he will drop the wine on James’ beautiful black rug. He's also thankful the rug is black in colour.

 

Also, who the hell is Buckaroo? 

 

“It’s my birthday and I would really like it if you’d celebrate with us.” James provides helpfully and gives him a hopeful smile that Steve can’t help but return with a guilty smile.

 

He hadn’t known, otherwise he would’ve at least wished James, maybe stayed away while he enjoyed with friends, certainly not crash on a party his friends planned, wouldn’t even dare drag his ugly hide downstairs. He turns to James with an apologetic expression, it being his turn to do the nervous wrangling of hands.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn’t know-”

 

“Steve, don’t apologise. We literally know nothing about each other, I wasn’t expecting you to wish me.” James cuts off his apology with a teasing smile and Steve finds himself smiling back at him. He gives the birthday boy a sly smile and raises his own eyebrow teasingly, eyes twinkling as he asks, “Buckaroo?”

 

“Everybody we knew in our neighbourhood had a son or a brother or a grandchild named James, so I started telling everybody my name was Bucky, a nickname from my middle name. anyway, long story short it just stuck and is the worst decision of my life. Now all my friends call me that so there's no going back, as much as I want to.” The brunette explains with an over exaggerated eyeroll and over the top sigh that totally has Steve giggling. He slaps a hand over his mouth at the sound but James hears it anyway and Steve watches with horror as a twinkle comes alive in James’ eyes.

 

“So, Steve…you know James well enough to sleep at his place, but not well enough to know us or his birthday. Seems a little odd, isn’t it Clint?” Natasha suddenly appears beside them and Steve jumps at the sudden presence. He watches her with wide eyes as she stands beside him and talks, only pausing to look at Clint as she takes his name. At Clint’s affirmative nod, she continues, “So, Steve, who are you?”

 

Steve's never been in a police investigation, but he's sure it would feel a lot like this. He swallows loudly and opens his mouth to answer when James cuts in, his face unimpressed and arms crossed across his chest, eyes glaring daggers at the red head.

 

“Steve and I-” James gets interrupted by the doorbell and he leaves them both to go answer it. The moment he moves away, Natasha takes a step towards him and appraises him with a pursed lip.

 

“Bucky…” they both look towards the door as a silver haired man flings himself into James’ arms and watch as James holds him with a familiarity Steve's not had with anyone. The man holds James tightly and James doesn’t look like he wants to let go either. It is only when the silver blonde buries his head in James’ shoulder and James cradles the back of his head, that Steve looks away. It felt like he'd been spying on a private moment, somewhere private.  

 

“I didn’t know you were coming, Piet. I thought it was just these bitches.” He hears James’ voice, too high pitched in excitement and way too cheerful for midnight. Even James’ scent seems to be singing, overjoyed probably the right word for their jubilant nature and Steve finds himself smiling at the combined enthusiasm of the two.

 

“Hey!” he also hears Clint yell from the couch, his indignation at the term of endearment going unnoticed by both the people at the door, but not by Natasha who smiles at the alpha, a real genuine smile.

 

Steve totally doesn’t raise his eyebrow at that. No, sir, he didn’t. he would like to wake up tomorrow with both eyebrows intact, thank you very much.

 

“Nah. I wasn’t gonna miss your birthday, Bucky. That’s not gonna happen.” He hears the man’s voice and that’s when he finally starts to take notice of him.

 

The man- no teenager, he realise as he takes a closer look,  was almost as tall as James, definitely taller than Steve and a beta by his secondary gender. He had long silver hair that stood up at the top of his head and a pale complexion that made Steve's look tan in comparison. Piercing blue eyes and the scent of  fresh earth, unique and too strong for a beta.

 

“Missed you, Piet.” James’ whispers and  kisses the top of the boy’s silver hair, prompting a blush to bloom across the boy’s face and for him to melt into Bucky with his whole body.

 

“Missed you too, Bucky. So much.” He hears the blonde say and even Steve knows he means it with every fibre of his being.

 

It takes the two another couple of minutes to come into the living room, their entire time in the hallway spend in hushed conversation and barely concealed giggles. Steve turns to Natasha for a heads up on the teenager but she seems deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as she glares in the direction of the door, awaiting, it seems, the return of James.

 

“Who’s this?” the beta questions as soon as they make their way to the living room, his face open and curious as he walks towards Steve with an outstretched arm and easy smile.

 

“Steve, this is Pietro and Pietro this is Steve.” James introduces as Pietro shakes his hand and Steve is pleasantly surprised by Pietro's strong handshake despite his tall, lanky yet muscular physique. He smiles back at Pietro and tells him it’s a pleasure to meet him.

 

“And Steve is…” Clint prompts from where he's perched on the armrest of the couch, wine bottle in hand and lying like the worst model on the planet, his head lolled back against the back of the couch, but his eyes somehow still on Steve and James.

 

“Steve is my husband.” James states casually, his voice nor scent betraying any hesitation or even nervousness at admitting it to his friends. Steve is surprised, to say the least, at the developments, because he had really not expected James to tell his friends about this. He wonders if he's going to tell them how it came to be and if he’s gonna reveal Joseph’s dirty hand.

 

“What?” the three chorus together, their volume almost causing Steve to cup his ears and run away. The scents in the room suddenly change direction too, curiosity, wonder, almost happiness, hurt and jealousy. The last two make lines appear on his forehead, his eyes drifting towards the teenager in front of him.

 

“Did you finally find the one?” Clint asks and comes bounding from the couch, the wine sloshing in the bottle and spilling onto the floor, barely missing the rug and the coffee table. His face looks so excited and happy, Steve almost feels bad for telling him it’s not so, that he is not ‘the one’. James seemed to be thinking the same as he barely shakes  his head, but the happiness is shattered much before he can tell Clint the truth.

 

Pietro speaks, from beside them, his voice deceptively calm even as his scent soured and staled, a horrible stench of jealousy and anger seeping into the otherwise unique scent of earth and it makes everyone’s head turn towards the young beta. 

 

“You’re married? Bucky, you're married to him?”

 

 James looks taken back at the tone, the scent, at the fists clenched at Pietro’s side and his eyes widen. He takes a step towards the teenager, his scent peaking in an attempt to calm the beta but he doesn’t even turn towards the alpha, just glares at Steve and bares his teeth.

 

“Yes, Piet. Now as I was saying-”

 

“You're married to him? This weak, thin omega? He's not good enough for you, Bucky, look at him. Why are you with him, he doesn’t deserve you and he probably can’t give you any children.” The words would’ve wounded Steve, they do, but from the now unbearable stench of jealousy and grief, he knows it’s Pietro's irrationality speaking. He takes a deep breath, wills his scent to not sour, but it doesn’t stop the three alphas from glaring at Pietro and their scents to simmer in anger.  

 

“Pietro, what’re you saying! Calm down and sit.” James voice barely comes through with how his teeth are clenched but he still manages to keep both his voice and scent in check. Despite the growing indignation in his face, the redness of barely concealed anger, he still keeps his composure.

 

“No. you can’t be married to him. He's bony and short and-” Pietro’s ramble gets cut off as James suddenly takes a step towards him, his eyes narrowed in anger, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He speaks in a very low volume, his voice too calm and too soft to be anything but soothing, but Steve can see the sheer amount of willpower he takes for James to not growl. Can see it in his fuming nostrils, the vein ready to burst in his neck. 

 

“Pietro, upstairs now.” He gestures to the staircase, his voice tethering on the edge of rage, of anger. Pietro looks at him, his eyes pleading, desperation lacing his voice, his tone. He takes a step forward, places a hand on James’ arm and squeezes softly.

 

“Bucky-” the beta tries gain, but James interrupts.

 

“Now, Pietro. I think we should talk about this in private, right now!” an alpha growl falls from James’ lips, his entire demeanour changing to that of the dominant personality oft associated with his kind with his shoulders pulled back and head held high. He flicks his wrist towards the rooms upstairs and Pietro scrambles to obey. Even in his hasty turn, Steve catches a glimpse of his face, the fear and disbelief on them, even bleeding into the air around them. It’s not hard to know James has never taken this tone with Pietro, even with the others, because Steve can see the widening of Clint’s eyes and the subtle eyebrow raise from Natasha.  

 

“Guys are so dense. Blind to everything.” Natasha remarks as the two of them leave the room, before collapsing on the couch and taking a sip from the bottle of wine that Clint somehow manages to not drop in all the commotion.

 

“You saw this coming?” Clint asks incredulous, eyes still fixed on the spot the two men stood. Steve also looks towards Natasha for a answer as she shrugs and takes another swig.

 

“Very clearly.”

 

“Damn.” Clint whistles softly and settles next to Natasha on the couch, arms already extended for his beloved bottle. Natasha gives him a playful eyeroll and then turns her entire attention towards Steve who’s still standing frozen in his spot. He catches the gleam in Natasha’s eyes, the sudden peaking interest in her eyes and scent and fidgets slowly. He can’t believe James left him here with Natasha, scary yet intriguing Natasha.

 

“So Steve” she begins, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees,  “how do you and Bucky know each other and how is he suddenly married to you?”

 

***

“Pietro…” Bucky growls as soon as he closes his bedroom door behind them. Pietro doesn’t turn to look at him, just paces the length of his room, hands in his hair and fingers pulling at the strands. 

 

“You got married? Without telling me? When, why?” He mutters under his breath and spins around suddenly, his eyes filled with tears and overflowing. Tears track down his pale cheeks and his hands still pull at his silver locks, forceful enough to cause more tears to fall from his eyes. His chest falls up and down at a worrying pace and he hardly breathes between his heart wrenching sobs.

 

Bucky dashes forward, his arms coming around Pietro in a hug, as he holds him close and whispers soothingly in his ear, his voice a shadow of the rough growl he'd been using a moment ago.

 

“Pietro, calm down. You’ll hurt yourself. Please.” He rubs the blonde’s back in wide sweeping strokes and continues his whispering in the same, slow manner. His heart hurts when he thinks of how familiar this is, how often he has had to calm Pietro down before he could bring a panic attack upon himself. He hates to think of those days, those nights and how easily the words come to him. Now’s not the time, no time is ever the time for that. 

 

It takes some time but Pietro calms down eventually, his sobs quieting down to sniffs and the occasional tear. Bucky holds him through it all, before finally releasing him enough to see his face and wipe away the tear tracks from his cheeks. He doesn’t step back from the blonde, holds him at an arm’s length and gives him the time to return to the conversation. 

 

“Why did you get married?” Pietro asks finally, sad blue eyes flickering up to meet Bucky's worried grey ones. Pietro’s scent, the smell of fresh earth after the first rain, is rancid with grief and jealousy and it in turn makes Bucky's scent sour.

 

He has never been able to stomach Pietro’s grief and this time is no different. 

 

“You remember the guy who saved my life last year, Joseph?” At Pietro’s nod, he continued, “Steve is his son. In return for saving my life, Joseph asked me to marry Steve. And I couldn’t say no, an alpha promise and all. So then, we got married yesterday.”

 

Pietro looked like he had questions, so Bucky silenced him with a raised hand and spilled the entire story to him, starting with his visit to the Rogers’ household and ending with Sarah’s words.  Pietro listened with rapt attention, his eyes eventually losing the sadness and instead being replaced with hope as his scent slowly but steadily grew fresh, fragrant.

 

“So you do not love him?” he asked softly, his eyes trained on Bucky's, both their heart beating rapidly, but for different reasons.

 

“No, Piet, I don’t.”

 

“Then do you…” Bucky placed a hand on his mouth and silenced him immediately. He watched as Pietro's eyes grew wide in realisation and then jumped into despair. The air around them staled again and Bucky could feel his own eyes watering at the teenager’s heartbroken expression.  

 

“No, please don’t. Don’t ask me that, please don’t make me say that.” He pleaded and let his hand fall to the side, his grief stricken grey eyes finding their reflection in the blonde’s similar blue eyes.

 

“Why not? Why do you not love me? Is there something wrong with me?” Pietro asks in a broken voice, similar expression trained on Bucky's face.

 

“No!” he shouted, angry that Pietro would ever think of himself in such a way. He shook his head furiously and took a step towards the blonde, his flesh hand coming up to cup the blonde’s pale face as his voice became soft and soothing again. “There’s nothing wrong with you, don’t you dare say that. You're one of the best people I know, one of the strongest and bravest. You're kind, loyal and devoted to a fault and one of the cutest people on the planet. But we’re family, Piet. We’re brothers, you and I, someone I've looked after and raised. I can’t see you as anything less than that, Piet, please don’t ask me to.”

 

“We’re not brothers, Bucky. We never were. You were my best friend and I always hoped you’d be more. Please, Buck. One chance. Just once.” The blonde begged, his entire body leaning into Bucky's hand. His eyes shone with unshed tears and every fibre in Bucky's body screamed at him to stop hurting Pietro, to give him whatever he wanted and to put an end to his suffering.

 

But he couldn’t. He hadn’t been lying about Pietro being like a brother to him, in fact he had always considered him to be his own brother, despite not being biologically related. He hadn’t known Pietro's feelings, hadn’t known he was sowing the wrong feelings in the teenager.

 

“Pietro, please don’t. Please.”

 

“You're making this harder than it already is. You're pushing me away. Why? Why would you do that to me? Why me?” Pietro burst out in tears at Bucky's words, sobbed out his own in return. Bucky's heart splintered in his chest at the sight of the heartbroken beta, at the tears he'd promised himself he'd never be the cause of, at the sight of grief that he had vowed to never let return.

 

He pulls Pietro towards himself, lets the boy cry and sob into his chest as he holds on to him as tightly as possible. He cradles Pietro's silver hair in his metal arm and rubs his flesh hand up and down the blonde’s back. Pietro's grip on his back is too tight, borderline painful, but he doesn’t push him away, doesn’t ask him to go easy. He lets Pietro hold him and lets himself hold the breaking beta, as he whispers his apologies into Pietro's hair, lets Pietro's tears soak him and  his tears soak the beta.

 

“Pietro, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I never noticed this, I'm sorry I let this grow so much, I'm sorry I never made my intentions clear. I'm sorry you're hurting, Piet, I never meant to hurt you. You're a young boy, so full of life and promise, you deserve someone better. You deserve someone with both arms and a fully functioning head. I'm not the one for you, but there is someone out there, I promise. You’ve to let this go, Pietro, for me and for you.”

 

“I can’t, Bucky. I love you so much, for so long. I…” Pietro doesn’t complete his sentence, just buries his head in Bucky's chest and sobs aloud. Bucky tightens his hold fractionally, his thoughts flying back to every time Pietro had said the same words and he had misinterpreted them. It’s hard to believe he never understood them, never saw the adoration in Pietro's eyes.

 

He hates himself for that, for being too wrapped up in himself and hurting one of the few people he genuinely loves.

 

“I love you too, speedster, but not in the way you want me to. I'm sorry.” He tries again.

 

Pietro lifts his head from Bucky's chest, looks him in the eye and wipes away a tear that falls from Bucky's eye. He shakes his head and says “It’s not your fault, why you apologising? I should, I'm sorry.”

 

“Shhh. You did nothing wrong, Piet. You're allowed to feel the way you do, never apologise for your feelings, okay? They’re a part of you and you shouldn’t apologise for something like that.” Bucky doesn’t move his hand from Pietro's back, but lets the right one comb through his silver hair and push them back. He gives the teenager a small smile and sighs in relief when Pietro returns it.

 

“See, you're the one making it so hard to not be in love with you. You're perfect, Buck. How can someone not fall in love?” Pietro's words hardly reach him, even in the small distance between them. He knows he should probably ignore those words, let the rhetoric question remain rhetoric, but the guilt at hurting Pietro forces his mouth open and words spill out anyway.

 

“I’m not perfect, Pietro. I've just as many flaws as anyone. Maybe more. You just can’t see them now.”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” The blonde questions quietly, his eyebrows pinching in thought and eyes clouding again in grief. In his longing to bring the smile back, Bucky blurts out the first thought that comes to him.

 

“I pick my nose in public.”

 

“Eww. I think I might already be over you. That’s disgusting.” Pietro makes a face at that and pulls back a little from Bucky even though his hands remain buried in the back of Bucky's t-shirt. Bucky chuckles at the look on his face and takes a small step forward, his face sporting the most mischievous smile it had sported since returning home.

 

“Huh? Then maybe I should tell you about the time I farted on an aeroplane.” He continues, tongue in cheek, as Pietro's face wrinkles in disgust and possible sympathy for the poor people on that flight.

 

“Now, I'm sure I'm over you.” The blonde replies immediately and they both laugh at that. The laughing stops after a while as they both stand facing each other and wait for the other to say something. It’s Pietro who beaks the silence, his eyes searching Bucky's as he takes a step forward.

 

“Buck…”

 

“Hmm?” the brunette hums, his hand rubbing small circles on Pietro's shoulder, as the beta comes to stand a little under an arm’s distance from him. 

 

“I'm not over you and I think I might not be for a while. Would you hate me for that?” Pietro asks quietly, his eyes searching Bucky's for any sign of hate or malice. The air around them also seems to be doing the same as Pietro's apprehensive scent circles Bucky's in a prodding manner, heavy in the air.

 

“I could never hate you, Pietro. Never in a billion years. You're feelings are fragile, Piet, do not force them or rush them. They’ll fade over time, or maybe you’ll be able to write over them, replace the feelings you have for me with feelings for someone else. It may take time, it may happen fast, but it’ll happen at its own pace. Don’t push it and hurt yourself okay? I don’t wanna see you hurt, Piet. Ever. And I’ll never hate you for something like this. Don’t worry about that.” Bucky replies in the same soft voice Pietro had used, but with a small smile he had always noticed he only reserved for the blonde.

 

“Thank you, Buck. Not only for today, but for everything you ever did for me, for Wanda, for all of us really. I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough for all of that.” Pietro falls into Bucky's arms again, and Bucky's relieved to notice the lack of tears. He hugs back just as strongly, cupping the back of Pietro's head and wrapping an arm around his back.

 

“You remember when you told me you were going to college on a sports scholarship?” when the young blonde nods, Bucky continues, “At that moment you already thanked me for everything I did. There is no better gift you could’ve given me, Pietro, nothing. I'm so proud of you, so goddamn proud.”

 

Pietro pulls back from the hug and watches Bucky with a strong gaze. Bucky stares back in confusion as the scent of damp earth grows stronger around him. He watches the blonde watch him for a few seconds before Pietro surges in and kisses him, arms around his neck and body leaning on his. It takes him a few moments to get his bearings and make sense of what happened, before he pulls Pietro backwards with a tight grip on the back of his shirt and takes a step back to put some more distance between them.

 

“Pietro…” he implores, his broken tone and expression voicing the betrayal he feels at the action. He had thought they'd talked it out, he had assumed Pietro wouldn’t… he hates not being right, but being wrong about Pietro hurts more than it ever has.

 

“I'm sorry, Buck, so sorry but I had to do that once, I needed that closure. I'm sorry again, Buck, really sorry. But I'm gonna make you proud, I'm gonna graduate with great scores and I'm gonna work for the dreams you taught me to have. I'm gonna make you really proud of me, I promise.” Pietro gives him a kicked puppy look and lowers his head in shame, his entire demeanour like that of a man awaiting punishment. Bucky internally screams at the posture, at the fact that Pietro would even think Bucky would-could do something like that.

 

The posture brings to mind a series of bad memories and Bucky pushes them down too, the images and the too real nightmares, and concentrates on the broken teenager before him, on his little brother.

 

“I already am, Pietro. You don’t need to do anything for me. Do it for you, only for you.” He takes a step forward, cringes at his own hesitation and then strides forward more confidently. He takes Pietro's hand in his own and smiles at him, forcing his scent to not give away his fear of misleading Pietro with the gesture.

 

“Mmm. See, so perfect.” Pietro murmurs and Bucky almost drops his hand before he sees the wicked grin on Pietro's face, focuses on the teasing lilt to his words. He cracks a smile at the mischievous idiot and pulls him towards the door.

 

He stops at the door and turns to look at Pietro again, to get a read on the blondes face. He sees red-rimmed eyes and a red nose. He sees tear tracks on his cheeks and swollen eyelids. He sees love and understanding. He sees the little boy he brought up and a handsome man who loves him for it. He sees the real Pietro and it makes him more proud than he has ever been.

 

“Do you wanna go downstairs now? Cut the cake you guys brought me?”

 

“Yeah. Though I must warn you, they’re gonna paint your face with it.” Pietro replies immediately with the same face with which he told Bucky that he was going to prank Natasha. It’s a face Bucky is familiar with, because it’s a face that has never lied, and because it’s the face of his little brother.

 

“Wouldn’t be a birthday if they didn’t.”  

***

“Steve…” the blonde startles and jumps a little, his head whipping up from his steady gaze on the floor. He quickly blinked away the glassy look in his eyes and smiled at the youngster who stood in front of him.

 

“Oh, hey Pietro, you feeling okay?” he doesn’t know why he asked that, doesn’t even know if it is the right thing to ask, but the question leaves his mouth before he can think further about it and he mentally braces himself for angry words to follow. 

 

“Yeah.” Pietro takes a deep breath, his shoulders hunching in on him, as he sighs and looks Steve in the eye, barely concealed guilt and regret colouring them sad and starts speaking, too soft to be heard and too fast to comprehend. “I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Steve. I was so rude and disrespectful and you don’t deserve any of that. I was so blindsided by my anger and it is unfair that I took it out on you. I sincerely apologise for any hurt I might have caused you. I know a mere sorry won’t suffice but if there is anything I can do, please let me know. I really wish there was a way I could go back and change what I said, I really do.” His eyes get a little teary at the end of his speech and Steve feels really sorry for the teenager, for the grief he sees in those eyes, for the sorrow and regret. He smiles at him and takes a hesitant step forward, his arm coming to rest on Pietro's shoulder. He squeezes lightly and gives Pietro a small, sad smile.

 

“You’re forgiven, Pietro. It’s okay. You apologised and that is a great thing to do. You're a good guy, you just need to learn how to control that temper. Don’t worry I totally understand, I'm also team zero chill.” He chuckles softly at the end of his sentence and notes with relief that Pietro does the same.

 

The silver blonde doesn’t move away from his hand either but takes hold of his wrist with his own. He holds on tightly as he gives Steve a kicked look and lowers his eyes to the ground as he talks.

 

“Yeah. But those were some pretty shitty things I said and I want you to know I didn’t mean any of it. You're a really good looking guy, Steve, don’t let some words said in jealousy make you think otherwise.” Steve knows he probably didn’t mean it, but that didn’t mean that he was wrong or that the words were untrue. They were true and Steve knew it. Had heard it thrown at him from bullies at the playground, from his own father and from everyone in between. He didn’t want Pietro's pity, his dishonest words or his failing attempt of making it up to Steve.

 

He steels his face and his expression, praying his demeanour doesn’t give away how deep the words had cut him.

 

“Sure. I'm good looking! I believe you.” He tries to be nonchalant about it, brush it off as sarcasm but his words sound too bitter even to his own ears. He closes his eyes tightly as Pietro comes to stand closer to him and tries to pull away from the teenager’s very strong grip on his hand.

 

“Dude! You're kidding right? You seriously don’t know how good looking you are? Are you blind? With those baby blue eyes, pale skin and plump lips, you're like super pretty man. Seriously.”

 

Steve laughs then, amusement not sarcasm littering the cacophony, at Pietro’s blunt words and wonderous tone. He opens his eyes then to look at a still worried looking Pietro and gives him a genuine smile, small but coming from his heart.

 

“ Okay, okay. I believe you but you need to stop now or I am going to assume you're flirting with me.”

 

Pietro looks in the direction of the living room, from where Bucky's laughter is filtering in, and shakes his head softly, the action hardly inducing any real movement in his body, and drops Steve's hand from his shoulder. He takes a step back from the blonde and keeps his eyes trained on the floor beneath their feet.

 

“No, definitely not flirting with you.” And very softly, in a whisper meant only for himself to hear, he adds “I can’t.”

 

And Steve's heart breaks for the barely legal teen. He can guess what happened upstairs from Pietro’s heartbroken expression, can see the rejection in his blue eyes. Rejection is always hard, but at 19, it feels like the end of the world. Fully intend on comforting Pietro, Steve takes a step forward, drops his voice low so his soft words can only reach Pietro. 

 

“I'm sorry, Pietro.”

Pietro snaps his head up at Steve, self-loathing and pity swirling in them and the air around them, as his scent subsides just a little, lets Steve's soothing vanilla scent lull him a little. It’s after quite a while that he smiles, soft, barely there.

 

“It’s okay, Steve. I'm okay. There's nothing either of us can do about it.” He speaks too softly, resignation at an unjust fate dripping from his voice and Steve is reminded all over again that Pietro is young, so young.

 

Before he can reply Natasha’s voice calls out to both of them and they leave the kitchen, not without a non-verbal conversation first.

 

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry too.

 

***

10^th March 2020

Steve's grumbling away to himself and nursing a cup of hot, divine coffee  when Bucky enters the kitchen, already showered and dressed and sporting a small smile. The moment his eyes fall to a half asleep Steve sprawled on the dining table he chuckles to himself and moves towards the counter to grab a glass of water.

 

“Good morning, Steve? Did you sleep well after those assholes finally left?” he asks cheerfully, his heart soaring after an amazing night with his friends. Steve lifts his nose from where it was almost buried inside the mug and squints his eyes at Bucky, suspicion lacing his every feature, even his scent seeming to be half awake and barely there.

 

“Mmm. You're awfully chipper for someone who hasn’t had a cup of coffee yet.” Bucky laughs at his tone and gulps a glass of water, angling his body towards Steve's and answering in a light tone, his eyes still twinkling with mirth at Steve's half-dead form.

 

It was freaking hilarious. The only other person he had seen this disoriented in the morning was Clint and that was saying something.

 

“That’s cause I don’t drink coffee. Never caught the habit, I guess.” He shrugs and Steve's eyes bulge out of his head, the blonde almost dropping his beloved mug in the process of exclamation.

 

Bucky has to really fight back a laugh at this point. Steve might actually be worse than Clint and that was saying a lot of things. 

 

“Dude! You're missing out on the best part of life, the most delicious thing out there, the very elixir of life. Have you really lived if you haven’t had coffee?”

 

It was officially confirmed that Steve was in fact worse than Clint.

 

“Well aren’t you poetic in the morning! Good to know.” Bucky teases him with a smile and Steve sticks his tongue out in retaliation, going back to sipping out of his elixir holding mug, but still looking at Bucky with suspicious eyes.

 

Despite Steve's grumpy attitude, horrible poetry and his own teasing, Bucky finds himself happy for the two of them. This banter was a far cry from where they both stood less than 24 hours ago, tense and anxious, wanting to run away from themselves and everyone else. Between Steve's fear and Bucky's apprehension, he had thought this was going to be painful to say the least. But, it hadn’t been. Steve had gelled well with his friends, even with Bucky and after last night’s impromptu ice-breaking session, their interactions didn’t seem so forced anymore and Bucky was glad about it. He wished they could continue like this, be friends even when destiny had thrust them in a direction where they had started out by mutual hate and mistrust.

 

He wanted this morning to last a little longer, a lot longer.

 

“Uhm, Steve… I apologise for Pietro's outburst yesterday. He was way out of line and he said some very hurtful things that he had shouldn’t even have crossed his mind in the first place and I'm so sorry for that. I hope you can forgive him, he's just-” he breaks off, unaware as to how to complete his sentence.

 

“Very in love with you?” Steve raises his head and asks with a small smile on his face, no mirth in it, just a little empathy.

 

“Hero worship and misplaced emotions are more like it.”

 

“It’s okay, James. He already apologised to me yesterday and called me pretty. He was instantly forgiven.” Steve gives him a stronger smile this time and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want beef between Steve and any of his friends, especially Pietro.

 

He was also proud of Pietro for apologising to Steve, he was such a good kid. God Bucky could cry tears of joy and pride and love (platonic).

 

“Well he's not wrong.” Bucky says after a beat and revels in the way Steve’s cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.

 

As he smiles to himself, Steve turns to look at him, competition swirling in his eyes and the mixed scents around them as he looks Bucky in the eye and grins wide.

 

“Yeah, I'm also looking at proof that the kid’s got a working set of eyes.”

 

Bucky can feels his cheeks turning hot and he immediately turns around to pour himself another glass of water. It had been too long since he had complimented somebody like that, had been complimented himself and he was hit with the sudden realisation that he didn’t know what to do. He was out of practice and it made something deep inside him hurt, a dull thud, some long buried memories.

 

“So, Nat liked you.” He changed the subject abruptly and turned back around to face Steve, hiding his face behind his glass as he pretended to take a sip.

 

“What? Did she say that?” Steve was suddenly more awake than he had been and he almost spat his coffee in Bucky's face in his excitement.

 

Bucky laughed at his enthusiasm, totally understanding Steve's awestruck amazement at the fact that Natasha had liked him. Bucky had almost fainted when she had first waved at him.

 

“Steve, do you need help picking up your jaw from the floor?” he asks, his tongue in cheek as he finally allows himself to move away from his glass-shield.

 

“No, you jerk. Tell me if she said so.” Steve punches him in the right arm lightly and Bucky totally doesn’t make a show of pouting and rubbing his arm. Nope he doesn’t.

 

“No, she didn’t. but she didn’t stab you, so that means she likes you.” It’s not a joke. Brock Rumlow, professional asshole, can confirm to that.

 

“Does she tell someone she likes them?” Steve asks with a childlike enthusiasm and Bucky suddenly realises that even though he has been through so much, Steve's still a goddamn kid, barely 20, just few months elder to Pietro himself. He swallows his apologies and grief down and takes another sip of water, just to give himself something to do so he's not standing there gaping at Steve.

 

“She liked Clint the first time she saw him. He was fighting a bunch of assholes who were hurting a dog. After she kicked all their butts, she turned to Clint, told him she liked him and asked him to be her friend. They’ve been friends ever since.” He shrugs and turns away to wash his glass in the sink, his thoughts drifting back again and again to Steve and his lost childhood. He can’t help but berate himself for not seeing it sooner, for never even asking.

 

Steve's too young and Bucky feels himself curling his palms with a wish to take his fist to Joseph’s face.

 

 How could he do this to his own son?

 

“What about you? How did you meet her?” Steve's voice cuts into his thoughts and he immediately places the glass down before he breaks it. He’s already reaching to put it back in the cupboard when the question catches up with him.

 

Memories of dark night, thin blankets and crying faces come to his mind. Nightmares of scary men, long canes and crooked teeth flash behind his eyelids. Blurry images of red hair, an extended hand and a Russian accent flash in front of his eyes.

 

He takes a deep steadying breath, leans his whole weight on the granite counter top and blinks his eyes rapidly to throw off the images and memories. He takes another breath, rolls his shoulder backwards and fakes a glance at the clock above the fridge.  

 

“Uh, it’s a long story and I'm running a little late. I’ll see in the evening, okay?”

He rushes out of the kitchen and into his room as fast as he can. He can feel Steve's questioning gaze on his back and concerned eyes over him. He doesn’t need to read minds to know that Steve knows this was him running away.

***

 

Notes:

If it was unclear, Pietro is 19 in this fic, barely a year younger to Steve.

Now on to important things.
Even though this is my most popular fic, it is not the one I consider to be my best work. There's another fic, one I'd poured my heart and soul into and I was so proud of the way it turned out. But, unfortunately, it is my least popular work. In fact nobody seems to have read it. It would mean the world to me if you guys would please check it out, read it maybe? Please.

In case anybody wants to read it, I'm posting the link below.
Under The Stars

Thank you for reading.
Until next time
Apieceofurmind

Chapter 6: A New Beginning, An Old Story

Summary:

The boys are becoming closer.

10^th March 2020

He walks into the store with a single thought on his mind, a fucking cigarette and nothing more. He had tried at least three shops before this one and they'd either stopped selling ‘cancer sticks’ or they were out of stock. His anger was at the precipice of boiling over and he could hardly think beyond his absolute need for a smoke.

 

He pushes open the door and growls at the bells that jingles at his arrival. He glares at the beta manning the counter and strides towards the aisles with all the confidence of an alpha. He moves swiftly to a rack which advertises cigarettes, but freezes immediately.

 

He sniffs once to confirm his initial assessment and then slowly smiles to himself. He'd know that scent anywhere, the scent of his son, the scent of his pride.

 

Dark chocolate.

 

He follows the scent to its origin and finds James at the dairy section, reading the label of a yogurt cup and furrowing his brows thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes at the basket in James’ hand and scowled at the household items thrown into it. Alpha men did not do the household shopping, buy groceries and shampoos, omegas and women did. In his entire life he had never once set foot in a grocery store or stood in lines to pay for household items. It had always been done by the omegas in his life: first by his mom and then by Sarah.

 

Steve was not keeping his end of the bargain and Joseph grit his teeth at the audacity of the omega to send James for such a housewife task.

 

 “James..” He advanced towards the young alpha and smiled when the brunette turned to look at him. He felt his scent calm down from its prior anger and almost sing in the presence of James.

 

“Sir.” James stood where he was a nodded slightly, his scent suddenly very neutral and not giving any indication of any emotions that the brunette was feeling. Joseph took a step forward, kept his eyes and body language open as he opened his arms for a hug.

 

“Sir? Call me dad son, we’re family now.” He can see James eyes narrow at his words and the small hint of a smile tease his lips. He eyes Joseph’s open hands but doesn’t offer a hug, just stands there and looks anywhere but at Joseph.

 

“Sir,” there is a novel bitterness in James’ voice and Joseph flinches at the cold, hard glare he’s faced with., “what can I do for you?”

 

Joseph involuntarily takes a step back at the snarl that falls from James’ lips and he narrows his eyes at the young alpha. James had never disrespected him, had never given him the cold shoulder or even looked at him with cold eyes. The look in James’ eyes were scary at the moment, hardly any warmth and a ton of barely concealed anger shone in those greys.

 

He knows he fucked up with his proposal, knows James has every right to be angry at him for forcing him into a union he had no interest in and also knows that anybody who’s forced to marry Steve of all people would treat him coldly. But, this, this does not feel like the hostility that comes from that, this hostility is passive in nature, it belongs to somebody else and it is just getting projected through James.

 

The moment that clarity crosses his mind, so does the answer to the puzzle, to James’ anger, to his son’s hostility.

 

“I see. He's poisoned your mind against me, huh?” he grits out, his scent flaring up and out towards James, stinking with anger and pain, as he glares at his son with fury that is in the least not directed towards him.

 

James doesn’t flinch at the tone, doesn’t even step back at the stench of pine trees and dew and just stands his ground. He tilts his head to the side, voice calm and deceptively innocent, as his eyes narrow in Joseph’s direction.

 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

 

“Like hell you don’t! I'm talking about that bastard you married yesterday and the lies he told you.” He realises too late that he is shouting and he immediately snaps his mouth shut. Every fibre in his being urges him to apologise to his beloved son, to take back everything he just said and to beg James’ to put this behind them. But one look at James’ face and his barely concealed scowl is enough for all guilt and regret to fly out the window and for Joseph’s anger to soar again. 

 

“What lies do you think he told me?” James growls at him and Joseph sub consciously does it back. He takes a step forward, his palms curling into fists at his side and the distance between the two alphas diminishing to mere few feet. He hopes the gesture intimidates James but the young alpha also stands his ground, barely blinking and face devoid of any fear. Joseph feels a surge of pride at his fearless son for standing his ground but he doesn’t let it cloud the anger he feels.

 

“How am I supposed to know the lies that spineless retard goes about saying?” he bellows, the very thought of Steve making angry fumes erupt from his nostrils and ears and his scent to go berserk.

 

The question snaps something in James also, whose neutral scent suddenly spars in anger, his eyes blaze and he grits his teeth menacingly.

 

“How can you talk about your own son like that.” He snarls and Joseph involuntarily takes a step back in fear. He has never seen James so angry, didn’t know it was possible for the young man, but he knows he can’t back down now. Alphas don’t step down from a fight, don’t let fear mar their scent even in the worst of scenarios. He steps forward and matches James’ fury with his own.

 

“No son of mine is a weak, useless omega. I could never raise such a wuss.”

 

“You can’t accept your own son, but you expect me to accept you as my father?” James challenges in return, even the corners of his eyes turning red with immense anger. Joseph reels back like he was hit, the realisation that James does not want to be known as his son, hitting him harder than he ever imagined possible. He shakes the growing feelings of heartbreak down, alphas don’t feel such pathetic emotions, and holds his head high and voice unwavering as he replies.

 

“You're no pathetic, ‘take-it-up-your-ass’ omega, are you! Of course I want to be called your father.” He sees the fury in James’ eyes and feels the wrath of his words even before he utters them. He’s never in a million years imagined the cold ferocity in those grey eyes as James advances on him, gets right up in his personal and breathes his next words right down at him, voice barely above a ferocious whisper. 

 

“Steve is no weak, pathetic omega. He's so much more. He's…” and he stops, breathes heavily as his eyes flash in confusion. Joseph smirks as he realises what it is. James doesn’t know anything about Steve, doesn’t know who Steve is or what he does. He's not known Steve long enough to know shit about him.

 

“He’s what, James? A useless omega you married, that you couldn’t even spend a second with? Isn’t that why you're an a supermarket at ass’ o clock in the morning?” he chuckles coldly and watches coolly as James takes another deep breath, his nostrils flaring in anger and eyes flashing red.

 

“No,” he says with conviction. He pauses to take a deep breath, wills his scent and his temper to calm down and not create a scene in a public place. He drops his voice and raises his eyes to look right at Joseph, lets his tone convey the belief he has in his words.

 

“No. He’s strong because even after undergoing all this abuse at your hands, he never broke. He’s kind because even after the way he has been mistreated by you, he still smiles. He’s forgiving, because despite the fact that you gave him away to an absolute stranger, he still hasn’t punched you in the face. He's respectful, despite never having any respect in the house he was born in. He’s smart. Despite being the genetic progeny of the stupidest man I've ever met.”

 

“Stupid? How dare-” Joseph splutters in shock and doesn’t recover in time to stop James’ interruption.

 

“You're stupid, if you don’t know how great a son you have.” The young alpha finishes and walks away from Joseph, leaving his basket in the aisle and the stench of fury and irritation.

 

Joseph watches him go with a heavy heart and sinks on to the floor in despair. He's never felt so hopeless, so pathetic, so broken. He holds his head in his hand and fights the urge to cry or scream. He just lost his son, lost him to stupid Steve and his manipulative ways. He should’ve never asked James to marry that sick son of a bitch, never given Steve a chance to steal his son away.

 

As the despair and grief pass, anger and vengeance take its place. Steve screwed him over, got his son to hate him and leave him. If Steve thinks Joseph is going to sit still and let it happen, he's mistaken. The omega forgot about Joseph’s greatest weapon, the power he still wields over Steve. He's going to make Steve regret this, make him regret ever turning James against him.

***

 

 They sit in companionable silence for a while, both their gazes on the kids playing in front of them, but mind on the man sitting next to them. Steve had been surprised, to say the least, when James had come barging in from outside, his face an angry shade of red and his scent in mind-numbing fury, and asked Steve if he would like to go to the park. As much as he hates to admit it, Steve had been terrified to say no and even though James had been nothing but cordial and dare he say sweet while asking, his scent had been enough to make Steve think twice about saying yes. But the alpha had been a thorough sweetheart, taking Steve to the park, buying him an ice cream and then proceeding to ask him if they could sit on a bench.

 

Steve had not said no to anything. Yet. Even if they’d been sitting on the bench eating ice cream, in silence, for over fifteen minutes.

 

Though, he is confused and apprehensive. James had ran out of the house, preferring fleeing to answering Steve's simple question, and it had put Steve in a dilemma of sorts. What was so bad about his meeting with Natasha? What had happened? Who was Natasha? What was James hiding?

 

He kept all his questions to himself and watched a dog chase after a little girl of five, her pigtails flying after her as she shrieked in uncontrolled mirth.

 

“I'm sorry for running out on you today. It was really immature of me. I'm sorry.” James’ voice breaks him out of his reverie, his head snapping sideways to look at the brunette. James doesn’t turn to look at him, but he knows James knows he's looking at him, can see it in the way his shoulders sag minutely.

 

“No,” he begins to contradict James’ statement, but stops before he can say anymore. He doesn’t want unnecessary lies between them anymore, doesn’t want them to keep tip toeing around the other. James is a grown man, he can handle a little criticism. He clears his throat and tries again,  “Yeah, it was. You could’ve just told me you didn’t want to talk about it and I wouldn’t have pushed. Our deal was about being honest with each other if the matter concerned the other and your relationship with Natasha is none of my concern, James. I don’t expect you to tell me anything about that.”

He finishes with an air of finality. James turns to look at him, a sparkle in his eye, something indecipherable in them. He smiles at Steve, a slow smile that soon takes over the entirety of his face and Steve finds himself unable to look away.

 

“You're…you're something else, you know that?” the brunette whispers breathlessly, his voice as soft as the smile on his face. Steve feels himself going hot under the collar and he clears his throat again.

 

“Oh yeah. You're lucky to have me, my mom says I'm a catch.” He deadpans and sighs in relief when James breaks his intense gaze and laughs at his comment. He cracks a small smile at the brunette and they both go back to watching the little kids in the park, Steve's eyes searching for the little girl and her energetic dog.

 

“You didn’t have to agree to come with me just because you were scared. You're allowed to say no.” James begins after a while, his tone apologetic and his eyes refusing to meet Steve's. The omega keeps his eyes fixed on the alpha, dares him to meet his gaze, but upon failing sighs deeply and answers petulantly.

 

“I wasn’t scared.”

 

“Your scent can’t lie and honestly neither can you. Don’t try, Steve.” The brunette answers and Steve hates the smile he can hear in his voice. He crosses his arms across his chest and turns to look at the running path in front of him.

 

“It’s just that…you looked like…” he flailed his arms around to convey James’ scary demeanour from when he entered the house and continued speaking through it , “ and I didn’t know what it was about and I didn’t wanna accidentally contribute to it, so I agreed to come with you. Didn’t mean to convey you're scary or anything.” He finished quietly and hardly swallowed back the sorry that was threatening to escape. He was honestly tired of the two of them apologising to the other continuously, about every little thing. They were roommates for heaven’s sake, miscommunications, fights, misunderstandings were bound to happen. They couldn’t keep apologising to each other forever.

 

“Sorry, just ran into an asshole and he insulted someone I know. I couldn’t punch him in the face and it really irked me, I guess.” The alpha shrugged and Steve turned to stare at him incredulously, his jaw hanging open

 

“You're an alpha, why couldn’t you punch him in the face, its not like the law is gonna come after you for breaking hierarchical norms. Was the guy an alpha?” he knew he sounded bitter. And he was. He was angry for every time he wanted to punch an alpha or a beta and the society would remind him who was superior. He was bitter about every alpha who got away with harassment, abuses and even assaults just because they were an alpha. He is bitter about every time he was harassed for being an omega who didn’t know his place. He is bitter for every time someone would laugh at him for trying to take on an alpha.

 

He at least had the entire world and system against him, what reason  did James have to not fight. He was an alpha, strong, healthy alpha. Even if the other guy was an alpha, it’s not like he could get into more trouble for hitting him. They would have had an alpha-alpha fight, one of them would get their ass handed to them and the law enforcement would come, warn them to not do it, and go their way. Nobody would’ve told James he was an idiot for taking on an alpha. Nobody would’ve reminded James of his thin body or weak immunity. He couldn’t believe James had walked away from that, from a guy who had insulted somebody he knew.

 

“Yeah.” The brunette answered quietly.

 

“Then I'm sure law wouldn’t even have intervened. Why’d you not hit him?” Steve asked impatiently, his body thrumming with passive and active anger. Anger at some stupid alpha who thought it was okay to insult others and anger at the alpha in front of him who didn’t show the alpha it wasn’t right.

 

“He was elder to me.” James answered quietly, still not meeting Steve's eyes and keeping his head bowed.

 

“But still a dick.” Steve interjected immediately, his eyes blazing and his scent doing the same. He kept his eyes trained on James, challenging the alpha to meet his eyes, to condone his own actions and to explain to Steve why an asshole didn’t get his ass handed to him.

 

“Yeah, still a dick. But, the person he was insulting, I don’t think they would’ve been happy I hit the guy. Instead I think they'd have come hit me.” The alpha finally lifted his head and looked Steve in the eye, matching the intensity of his gaze with his own. Steve swallowed dryly, any objections or complains he had, dying at the back of his throat.

 

The way James was looking at him, not seeing just him but seeing all of him. Like he was reading Steve inside and out, like he knew Steve, who he was, what made him who he was. Like he just knew Steve.

 

“Then the insulted person probably deserved the insults. You don’t have to beat yourself over it, they sound like an idiot.” He turned away from the scorching gaze of the alpha and grumbled out his answer to the bench under him.

 

“Nah. They’re really smart.” He gave Steve a soft smile and Steve could feel the flush that travelled across his cheeks and nose at the action. It was hard to remember that they were talking about a third person, that James wasn’t talking about him, that the smart person was not Steve. The way James was smiling, the way he looked right now, under the green trees with the wind in his hair, Steve found himself wishing James was talking about him, that Steve put that look in his eyes, the twinkle. As nothing more, just as a friend.

 

“So, we don’t know anything about each other. Wanna tell me something about yourself?” he knew it was stupid way to change the subject but he couldn’t stop himself. The way James was looking at him, the magnetic gaze, Steve had just wanted to get out of that. He averted his eyes from the brunette and cleared his throat again for good measure.

 

“A get-to-know-your-husband?” the brunette questioned, the smile still audible in his voice and Steve chuckled quietly.

 

“Yup. A get-to-know-your-husband. I’ll start. Well… my name is Steve Rogers and I'm twenty years old. I'm an artist and I do graphic designing on the side. I work for Stark Industries and have been doing so for around four years. My hobbies include reading and drawing and if I could be any vacation I’d be a foreign trip.”

 

The brunette suddenly moved forward and held up a finger to Steve's face. Steve smiled at the absolutely hilarious look on his face, the confusion and the thoughtfulness and sank back against the bench as James replayed his words in his head.

 

“Okay. Hold up, that’s so much to unpack. Question number one, why would you be a foreign trip? And question number two, you’ve been working for Stark industries since you were sixteen? How?”

 

“I’d be foreign trip because I want to be.” He smirked at James and was secretly delighted when James gave him a bitch face. Finally someone who appreciated and could pull off a bitch face to match his own.

 

“Do you know Tony Stark?” at James confirming nod, he continued, “ Tony and I met through a mutual friend and we just hit it off. He was-is quick witted and smart and we got along like a house on fire. I showed him some drawing I’d done and he showed it to his father’s secretary. Long story short, one fine morning I get a call from Stark Industries to intern there, designing and creative wing, and I accepted. After a few weeks of interning, Howard Stark came to see me and offered me a job, promising to take care of my education and all and I immediately accepted. So that’s how I started working there at sixteen. All thanks to Tony.” He finished with a flourish and waited for James to stop nodding along and say something.

 

“Wow… that’s amazing.” The brunette smiled proudly at him, his hand coming to pat Steve on the shoulder and retreating immediately. He gave an appreciative nod of his head and saluted Steve playfully. Steve knew he was smiling widely, but he wasn’t ashamed. In all of his life of twenty years, this was what he was proud of, the sole accomplishment of Steve Rogers.

 

“Thanks.” He replied with a cheeky grin. “Now, your chance to brag.”

 

“Nothing to brag about. My name is James Barnes and I'm twenty five years old. I'm an army veteran and volunteer at the VA five days a week. I joined the army when I was eighteen and by the age of twenty I was a highly decorated officer and a sergeant by twenty three. A few months shy of my twenty fifth birthday, I was honourably discharged from the army after a bomb blew up my left arm. The army was kind enough to fit me with a state of the art prosthetic, so I now have a metal and one flesh arm.” He finished with a small smile but Steve could see the pain flashing in those eyes, the reliving of war behind those eyelids. He saw the tightening of James’ shoulders and the furrowing of his brows. Even James’ scent which was floating away in pride and contentment had suddenly seeped down to fear and guilt.

 

He moved a little closer to the brunette and put a hand on his shoulder. He waited till the alpha looked at him and gave him a small, encouraging smile. As the alpha imitated the smile back, his scent copied Steve's scent and settled into contentment again.

 

“You didn’t have to tell me that, James. But I'm so glad you did. Thank you. Thank you for your service and thank you for telling me that.”

 

He waved off Steve's words and kept his gaze fixed on a patch of grass under his feet. “I had to tell you, it concerns you as well. You're husband is part metal and you need to know that.” He attempted a small smile and tried to move away from Steve's hand. Steve let him do so, but he did not shift away from the troubled alpha.

 

“My husband is a hero and that is all I need to know.” He spoke softly and watched as James turned to him in wonder. The alpha’s eyes were growing misty and his mouth was open in amazement. He looked like he was struggling to find words and Steve let him take his time, just sitting close to him and giving him a small smile.

 

“Thank you. Nobody has ever…” the brunette finally whispered, his voice trembling dangerously and Steve's heart thudding uncontrollably.

 

“If nobody has, that’s because they are idiots.” Steve remarks and they both start laughing at that, the soft moment broken immediately as the chuckle at each other for no reason but to break the inevitable silence.

 

“So, Mr Rogers, with all the money Stark Industries is probably paying you, why would you stay in such a small apartment?” James asks as they finally come down from their bout of hysterical laughter. Steve had completely forgotten that James had seen his apartment when they'd shifted his things yesterday. Well that’s embarrassing, given James’ huge house and Steve's reason for the same. But he doesn’t want to lie to James, especially after James’ honesty.

 

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. He keeps his eyes averted from James’ as he tries to gain the courage for his answer.

 

“So it doesn’t look too empty with just me staying there.” He whispers, an embarrassing secret he was prepared to take to his grave. He waits for James to say anything, to maybe even laugh at Steve's fear of loneliness, but the brunette does neither.

 

“May I?” James points to his hands and Steve nods. James rests his hand on his intertwined hands and gives them a little squeeze. Steve looks up at the brunette in surprise but he only gives Steve a pained smile and another reassuring squeeze.

 

“When I came back from Afghanistan, I had to play loud music to fall asleep at night, because the house was too quiet and I wasn’t used to that. Out there, there were so many of us, there was never any silence. But back home, it was just me and the loneliness was crippling. I couldn’t handle it, so I’d spend all my day outside. I'd go to the VA, roam around those hipster coffee shops or even come sit on this bench. Maybe now that there are two of us, no more loneliness?” he asks softly, his eyes drowning in hope and his scent praying for the same. Steve smiles at him, wobbly and too wet and squeezes his hand back.

 

“No more loneliness, James.” He smiled at the cute alpha and the alpha returned it with a dazzling grin of his own. Neither of them let go of each other nor did they look away from each other.

 

“You can call me Bucky, you're my husband after all.” He gave an over exaggerated wink with his cheeky grin and Steve was suddenly a lot happier about this whole marriage thing.

 

Arranged marriage or not, stranger or not, screaming and yelling or not, hate and lies or not, they were becoming friends, good friends. He could see it in James’ smile, in the twinkle in his eyes, in the song in his scent, that he was as happy as Steve was about the whole thing, about their friendship, at the funny ways of fate. The universe was a funny thing and Steve was thankful to it.

 

They sat there for hours, talking, laughing and bantering. They watched as the sun set in the horizon and the moon came up to take its place. Even as the world welcomed darkness, Steve saw light. He saw a new light in the form of James’ companionship, in their new friendship and at a place he was starting to think of as home.

 

Notes:

What is Joseph going to do? Is their friendship going to last?

Is this cute chapter a deceptive entry to angst and hurt?

 

Thanks for all the love, guys. Seriously you are the best. I cherish every Kudos, every comment and every hit. I'm looking forward to your comments, and I'm gonna be a brat and say, Please comment, please, please. At least let me know if you think this happiness is going to last... *Ominous smile*

Chapter 7: One Coin, Two Sides

Notes:

Sorry for the late update. No excuses, exams suck :(

13^th March 2020

“ Good morning, Steve. Did you sleep well?” Steve was barely awake and hanging onto his precious cup of coffee when Bucky came bounding into the kitchen, jogging shorts on thick legs and a tight henley around a similar chest. The henley looked like it was having the struggle of its lifetime keeping itself together on Bucky's chest and Steve was having an equally hard time stopping his jaw from hitting the floor. The sight was too much for this early in the morning.

 

Was Bucky always this ripped?

 

“Morning, Bucky. Yeah, I did. Where are you off to?” he’s immediately overcome by a desire to punch himself when Bucky smirks at him, his eyes travelling down his own body to show off his outfit as if Steve couldn’t see it and guess.  

 

“I’m going for a run, you wanna come?” the brunette asks, turning around to pour himself a sipper of water from the fridge.

 

“No. I think I’ll stay put.” Steve answers immediately and tips the cup into his mouth, swallowing the bitter liquid with a loud gulp.

 

“It’s no hassle if you wanna come. It’s beautiful out there at this time.”

 

“I’m sure it is, but I can’t. I've got asthma and runs tend to bring it on.” Steve answers softly, the subject of his shitty health always being a sore subject for him. Bucky turns back around and looks at Steve, his eyes soft and concern clouding his grey eyes a little.

 

Steve averts his eyes from Bucky's immediately, unable to take the kind look in the alpha’s eyes. He hates it when people pity him, look at him like that and start cooing about his heath like he's a little bird that broke its wing in their backyard. He defensively raise his eyes again after a while and matches Bucky's gaze with a glare of his own.

 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Bucky questions, the soft look gone from his eyes and an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

 

“What?” Steve gapes at the brunette, wondering if his confession was too quiet that Bucky missed it. There could be no other reason he would ask Steve again, was there? Bucky had not seemed insensitive in the little time Steve's known him, but the blonde was always prepared for surprises, had been ever since his father…

 

“We could start with a slow walk, maybe a stroll, then gradually move onto brisk walking, then jogging and then running. I've heard that, that way you’ll build up the stamina and asthma attacks will reduce. Would that help you?” the alpha asked quietly, shifting the bottle from one hand to another in a nervous manner and biting his lip in anticipation.

 

Steve just stared at him. At the man he still couldn’t believe was real and not a figment of his imagination.

 

“That’s…” Thank you is what he wants to say. Thank you for understanding, for not pushing, for not being a dick, for not taking over my life, for everything. Thank you for being possibly the best man I know and for being the kindest person in my life. Thank you for being you, Bucky. But he doesn’t say any of that. “That sounds like a long term plan.” Is what he says instead.

 

“I was hoping it would be. Missing out on the early morning view of Brooklyn, even for a day, is unthinkable.” The brunette smiles up at him slowly, a sight Steve is starting to find more beautiful than the Brooklyn skyline, and Steve unconsciously returns it.

“I’m sure it is. I’ll join you from tomorrow. The view better be worth it, Barnes.” He teases back lightly and feels his heart fill with a pleasant warmth when Bucky throws his head back and laughs.

 

“I promise, darling husband, it’s lit.”

 

*()*

 

“Rogers, my man. Long time, no see. You forget about me or something?” Steve smiled in reply to the smile evident in Sam's  voice and continued staring blankly at the laptop screen in front of him. 

 

“Nah, who could forget you?” he replied tongue in cheek, chuckling softly when he heard Sam do the same on the other side of the phone.

 

“Damn, right they can’t. I leave a mark, baby, can’t forget this handsome face.” He laughs at the alpha and shakes his head fondly, always happy to know that Sam hadn’t lost his enormous amounts of self confidence along the way.

 

“I see, humility hasn’t paid you a visit yet.” He teases back immediately and hears Sam huff in return, his voice also conveying the smile that Steve longs to see again.

 

“And I see that sass hasn’t left the building.”

 

“Yeah, well, can’t wish away quality, Sam.” He's quick to counter, as they both laugh at their fresh and yet practiced banter.

 

“I hate you, man. So why you call? You not in the hospital again, are you?” Memories of a broken nose and stories of a fight in an alley run through his head. He smiles at the memory of Sam on his bedside table as he rose from a morphine induced deep slumber and almost chuckles when he remembers how pissed Sam had looked. He had scared off every nurse on the floor and Steve still rolls on the floor, dying of laughter, when he remembers Sam trying not to shout when he had told him how he'd tried to take on four guys together.

 

Those were some good days and Steve misses them. Not the broken noses and the fights, certainly not the hospitals and bills, but Sam and his mother hen tendencies.

 

“Nah. Just thought we’d catch up.” He shrugs and hits send on the email open on his laptop. He sighs in relief at a work well done and closes the laptop.

 

“Cool. Hit me with the deets. What’s up?” he can hear some shuffling on Sam's  side and from experience he knows Sam's  sitting on his couch, newspaper now thrown on the coffee table and legs pulled up and crossed on the couch. Judging by the time, Sam's just returned from his morning jog and probably still sipping a glass of orange juice.

 

He smiles at the question and takes a deep breath, ready to drown Sam in his ‘deets’.

 

“I just completed my latest work and finished mailing it to Stark, I got married and I might be up for an appraisal.” He finishes in one breath and waits holding the next for Sam's  reply.

 

The alpha stays quiet for a second, his mind probably fried in Steve's haste and it’s a very long minute before he speaks.

 

“Wait a sec, pause and rewind. Did you say you got married?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Yeah. Keep up, Sam. I'm finally up for the appraisal promised to me in January.” Steve tries to change the subject by mentioning his appraisal but he knows it’s a lost cause, even before Sam's  annoyed voice comes through. Sam's  always been good with Steve's deflecting and redirecting. 

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. You got married? To whom? Was there a secret man in your life you conveniently forgot to tell me about?”  he barks and Steve is convinced that if he had slightly better hearing, he could’ve heard Sam even without the phone, screaming at Steve from his house. He exhales a breath and slowly thinks of how to tell Sam the story of his marriage.

 

He knows Sam's  gonna be pissed when he hears it, will probably go meet Joseph and will also make sure to come and meet Bucky. And he wants to introduce them to each other, he really does, but he doesn’t want Sam coming and going all ‘knight in shining armour on him’. He knows Sam's  got the best intentions in his mind, does the things he does for Steve and his health and wellbeing, but at times it comes across more as a condescending gesture rather than a helping one. And the very thought makes him angry, pissed, mad; but he loves Sam like a brother and yet accepting help from him is unacceptable to Steve, unimaginable even.

 

“No, Sam. He served with my father, I just met him a week ago.” He speaks softly and feels Sam's  indignation before hearing it.

 

“Steve, you're not making any sense. Start from the beginning.”

 

And so Steve does. Tells him everything including the deal. He leaves nothing out but Bucky’s dreams, his slight insecurities that Steve's picked up on, the emotions he has seen in those grey eyes and the beautiful evening they spent in the park. He also ‘conveniently forgets’ to mention that Bucky might be the best thing that’s happened to Steve since he met Sam almost an year ago.

 

“That’s fucked up, Steve. What the fuck was your father thinking? He literally gave you off to an alpha stranger? What if he hurts you? What if he’s like your father?” Sam questions and Steve shuts his eyes closed at that. Bucky is not like his father, couldn’t be. Steve's been treated more as a human by Bucky in the past few days, than his mother or he have been treated their whole lives by his father. Bucky didn’t except Steve to share a bed with him or be good in the kitchen or play the role of a maid in his house. He invited Steve into his house and gave him a place to call home.

 

He gave Steve all that his father had never given him, without asking Steve for anything in return. If Bucky was anything like his father, then his father was the nicest man Steve's met in a while.

 

“He’s not like that, Sam. He isn’t my father.” The conviction in his voice forced Sam to stop for a second and think. It was silent on the phone line for a long second, before Sam's  tired voice came through, defeated and about done with Steve.

 

“And how would you know? I'm coming over. I need to meet this guy.”

 

“Sam there's no need. Listen to me, man.” Steve objected, albeit weakly, but Sam didn’t deter from his decision.

 

“No, you listen to me. If he’s a good guy, then it’s no issue, he’ll tolerate me. If he's a douche, we’ll know.”

 

“I don’t like the plan and I'm not gonna let you go through with it. I don’t need you looking out for me, Sam. I can look after myself. Don’t need an alpha to protect me.” His voice hardened and he found himself scowling at the phone. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and downed a glass of water in the time Sam answered.

 

“I know that, Steve. I know you're more than capable yourself, but that doesn’t need you don’t need help. I'm not coming to save you, I'm coming to help you. I just wanna see the guy and get to know him a little, see if he's like your father. Just that, I promise.” Sam spoke softly, knowing Steve's issues with giving up control, with letting an alpha be in charge. Steve could almost see him throw his hands up and approach Steve calmly, face open and scent clear, as he tried to get his point across efficiently and not hurt Steve's inner activist.

 

“No alpha growling and alpha posturing. If I see that sexist shit, I'm sending you home.” He warned quietly and could see Sam nod at him, mouth pulled into a grin and arms crossed across his chest.

 

“Ay, ay, captain. So dinner at 7?”

 

“Dinner at 6. I’ll see you then. Bye.” He amended quickly and waited for Sam to hang up.

 

“Bye.”  Sam hung up and Steve got up from the chair and fell into bed, rubbing his hands down his face and through his hair.

 

 Steve was kinda hoping this would happen. Bucky was an amazing guy and he knew Sam and he would get along splendidly. He met Bucky's friends and he wanted Bucky to meet his own. He wanted them to be the kind of friends who knew each other’s friends, were comfortable with each other and their friends and did not feel the need to put up masks for each other.

 

Bucky was his new friend and he did not want to spoil it yet, did not want his mom to suffer or himself for that matter. Buck had a lot of power in his hands and Steve had to thread lightly… 

 

*()*

 

“A friend of mine is coming over for dinner today.” Steve broached the subject with Bucky as soon as he came out of the shower, his hair dripping water droplets onto his t-shirt and sweatpants hung low on his lips. He stopped on his way to the couch and turned to look at Steve who stood between the couch and the television. 

 

“That’s great, Steve. Do you want me to leave?” the brunette asked cheerfully as he sat down on the couch and motioned for Steve to do the same. Steve hesitated for a second before sighing softly and moving to take a seat next to Bucky.

 

“Oh, no. I was kinda hoping he could meet you and we all could have dinner together.” He asked nervously, his hands finding their way to the throw pillows immediately and teeth worrying his bottom lip between them. Bucky's gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth and then his hands and he scooted closer to the blonde.

 

He raised both his hands so Steve could see them and slowly, deliberately placed them on Steve's wandering ones. He squeezed gently, his chocolate scent also doing its job in calming Steve and Steve finally released his lip from his teeth.

 

“Ah. He's coming to judge me. Will I be getting a shovel talk?” he asked mischievously, withdrawing his hands and doing a shovel motion with his hands, all the while wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“No…no. of course not. That’s not gonna happen.”

 

“The judging is not gonna happen or the shovel talk? Cause I'm looking forward to one of them and it sure ain’t the judging.” He chuckled at that and Steve also had to smile at that. He shook his head and turned his head to the side, his gaze catching on the television and forced the next lump of words to leave his throat.

 

“Okay, the judging is gonna happen but not the shovel talk. He knows the…uh…circumstances of our marriage. So, no shovel talk.” Steve answered quietly, waiting for Bucky to say something, anything.

 

“Meh, took the fun out of it, man. But I'm ready to be judged. What have you told him about me?”

 

Steve's head snapped back to look at Bucky and how coolly the alpha was taking all this. He didn’t appear half as nervous as Steve did and he was the one getting questioned.

 

He kept silent for a long time before Bucky's inquisitive eyebrow and gentle prompting reminded him of the question the alpha had asked.

 

“That you are a vet and that you own a house.”

 

“Went all out, did we?” he smirks at Steve and then continues, “ So, tell me about him. Is he a prospective date or an existing date?”

 

“Sam, is just a friend. No dating there. He's also a vet and lives in Queens. He is a decent karaoke singer and annoyingly funny. His mom makes the world’s best potpie and his sister’s kids are angels.” Steve tried to control the word vomit but they happened before he could stop them. He watched amusement grow on Bucky's face and felt his own turn red and hot. His scent was stuck between having fun and being embarrassed but Bucky's scent seemed to have found a permanent place in amusement and down right merriment.

 

“So let me get this straight. You told me all about his mother’s amazing potpie and his sense of humour, but you forgot to tell him about my delicious lasagna and my never ending set of skills ranging from singing to dancing and origami? How could you, Steve? How could you?!” his eyes bugged out of his eyes and his mouth fell open at Steve's betrayal. Steve had to fight every tooth and nail in his small body to keep from laughing but that didn’t stop his scent from singing mirth.

 

“Hey! In my defence I didn’t know these skills either, so the blame’s really on you.” He countered, never to back down from a competition even in case of fun.

 

“Okay, so let’s set the record straight today. I’ll make my lasagna today and you both can taste it and tell me how good it is. How’s that?”  Bucky extended an arm for him to shake and he shook it, both wearing sly grins on their face and competition in their eyes.

 

“Sounds fun.” And just like that all of Steve's nervousness vanished and he found himself looking forward to the evening.

 

“Oh it is gonna be.” Steve almost lost it at Bucky's excited face but he held it in with a small smile at the beaming brunette. This night was going to be exiting…

(*)

“Steve, I swear to god, if you burn that lasagna I'm gonna kill you in your sleep.” Bucky waved a spatula in his face and Steve immediately backed away from the microwave, his hands held above his head and innocence painted on his face.

 

“I'm not burning it, I'm just not sure you’ve set the timer correct. It seems too short.” He defended and slowly lowered his hands to gesture towards the microwave.

 

“Which one of us is a) wearing the cook’s apron, b) makes the best lasagna in Brooklyn, c) bought the oven and knows its settings by heart and d) is not the one who burnt his toast in the morning?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, settled with his hip against the kitchen counter and placed a hand on his hip, eyebrows cocked in competition and lips curled in amusement.

 

“Hey! That’s unfair. It was too early in the morning and I was only on my first cup of coffee. Toast making is coffee number two chore.”

 

Steve folded his hands across his chest and stared at Bucky defiantly, challenging him to disprove of that. Bucky smiled back at him, eyes twinkling in merriment and turned back towards the stove.

“You and your coffee: the romance of the century.” He fondly shakes his head at the pouting blonde and stirs the pot, soft smile still on his lips.

 

“As if you and doughnuts are not the modern day Romeo Juliet. You should see your face when you finish eating them, Shakespeare would applaud that drama.”

 

Steve moved towards the counter adjacent to the counter with the stove and pulled himself to sit on it. He sat down with a huff and immediately started swinging his legs and munching on the cashew nuts placed nearby.

 

Bucky moved quickly, lightning fast in Steve's exaggerated opinion and smacked his hand right out of that cashew nut bowl, raising the spatula in warning again and glaring till Steve dropped his hand.

 

“Well it takes one drama queen to know another.” Bucky said after a while, smile back on his face and spatula safely back inside the custard he was stirring.

 

“Me?” Steve splays his hand on his chest for the extra dramatic flair “A drama queen? How dare you, sir? I would never!”

 

“Yeah, no drama there.” Bucky teases immediately, throwing his head back in laughter and lighting a little warmth in Steve's chest. He smiled at the cackling brunette and shook his head softly, waiting for Bucky to stop chuckling and let him taste the custard.

 

The bell rang then disrupting both men from their very serious discussion. Steve smiled in glee and ran out of the kitchen to meet his best friend. He threw open the door and opened his arms wide for the taller man to fall in. Sam smiled at him, his cinnamon scent enveloping Steve at the same time Sam did and Steve laughed into his shoulder.

 

“Come in asshole, you're late.” He admonished gently and moved back to let Sam enter. Sam entered with a appreciative nod towards the house and immediately moved to remove his shoes at the door.

 

“It’s not my fault I'm late, 6 is too early for dinner.” He defended with a smile and Steve fake glared at him till he started laughing. He gestured towards the couch and they both were on their way when Bucky came to the foyer, welcoming smile on his face.

 

Steve moved to stand beside Sam as he introduced the two, but the moment the two alphas saw each other, their faces lit in recognition.

 

“Sam?!”

 

“James?”

 

Steve stared between the two in wonder and amazement until he finally found his voice.

 

 “You two know each other? How the fuck?”

 

***

Notes:

Comments and kudos are very very welcome. Please validate me XD

Chapter 8: Sam, The Wise

Summary:

Sam is done with his two white boys...

“You two know each other? How the fuck?”

 

Both alphas turned towards Steve, as if just realising that he was standing there. Steve, in turn, took turns turning towards both Sam and Bucky and waiting for a reply that was taking too long to come.

 

“I’m still waiting.” He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at his best friends and husband, tapped his foot impatiently as his face twisted into a frown.

 

“Sam is a fellow volunteer at the VA. That’s how we know each other.” Bucky answered immediately and Steve was struck with a sudden desire to smack his own forehead. How could he forget, how had it slipped his mind. Sam and Bucky were both veterans, both attended the VA and both volunteered at it. Of course they would know each!

 

“Oh shit! How could I forget?” he murmured and invited Sam to the living room, from where the conversation flowed. Bucky and Sam each sipped from a bottle of beer, while Steve stuck to a glass of water. He smiled at the alphas bickering and laughed when they poked fun at each other. He hid his face in his hand when Sam narrated embarrassing stories about him to Bucky, (walking around town with a fake moustache painted on his face after the one time he accidentally fell asleep at Sam's  place totally did not warrant the beer that Bucky had snorted up his nose), and laughed till his stomach hurt at Sam's  stories about Bucky (Bucky, macho alpha, running into a tree because he was too distracted cooing over a cat, is the best thing that Steve's ever heard in his life, and nobody can change his mind).

 

The boys did not let Sam off the hook either, taking turns dishing to each other about the general mess that was Sam Wilson.

 

“Once he pissed off his sister’s daughter, so in retaliation she poured hair colouring dye into his shampoo. He had red hair for a week.”

 

“Once at a social gathering organised by the VA, Sam ate a bunch of donuts from a stall, assuming them to be free like all other treats at the VA. Turns out they were not and he had to stand there and volunteer for them till I went and paid for all he ate.”

 

 

“He fell asleep in my studio and face planted into my colour palette. Best thing I ever painted and I didn’t even have to do anything.”

 

“He fell asleep here on the couch during movie night and while sleep talking admitted that he was terrified of Natasha and that he wanted to be the princess during some tea party.”

 

“Once he pissed off Tony and had a little bug follow him around every where for two whole days. He couldn’t poop or shower, it was fucking hilarious.”

 

“This one time-”

 

 

“Oh my god! Are you two done? I'm sorry for bringing u embarrassing stuff about you. Can we please stop. Please. I was promised there would be dinner.” Sam grumbled after a while, his face pulled in a pout but scent still lingering in the happy territory. Steve smiled at the dark skinned alpha and turned towards Bucky, lifting a eyebrow in question and gesturing towards his best friend.

 

“What do you say, Bucky? Should we let him off the hook?”

The brunette grinned at Steve, his eyes sparkling and Steve was instantly captivated by the twinkle in his eye. He swallowed dryly and met Bucky's gaze with his own, grin in place and amusement in the air.

 

“I think we should. We did promise him dinner and there's a world class lasagne in the oven.” He winked at Steve and got up from his chair, making his way to the kitchen and pulling out the lasagne. Steve sat frozen on the couch, his cheeks hurting from smiling at the brunette and came out of his stupor only when Sam cleared his throat deliberately.

 

“C’mon Sam, lets have dinner.” He rushed into the dining room, without looking back at Sam. He could guess the look on Sam's  face and he wasn’t ready to see it yet.

 

 (*)

After dinner they retired into the patio out back. Dinner had been a splendid affair. The lasagne, just like Bucky had promised was mind blowing and Steve had been unable to control himself. Both Sam and Steve had dived into it with a vengeance and, Steve's pretty sure, also made some very disturbing noises. They complimented Bucky on dinner and it was pleasing to see the alpha turn all five shed of red under the praise. When Steve made a joke of finally gaining some weight under Bucky reign in the kitchen, both Sam and Bucky had turned to look at him.

 

Bucky with a amused glint in his eye, promising Steve in a very grandma like voice, that he wouldn’t let him starve to death and Sam with something absolutely unreadable on his face. Just like before, Steve turned away from it before he could begin to analyse it.

 

It was a wooden structure, looking out into a small garden out back with a metal railing and a couple of wooden steps down to the garden. Steve leaned on the railing, his back to the railing and Sam took residence in one of the chairs. Bucky took the place to Steve's right and Steve gave him a small smile at the gesture.

 

Silence lulled by full bellies and full hearts, the men were quiet as they stood out on the patio. There were crickets chirping in the background, their voices weaving into the calm that settled around them instead of disturbing it, and Steve was thankful for it. Out here, in the midst of a dark sky and a garden full of flowers. Standing with his best friend and close friend, Steve was finally home, or as close to it as he could get. 

 

The silence finally came to an end when Bucky's phone suddenly rang. All three men jumped out of their skin at the sudden noise and then immediately started laughing at their own reaction. Bucky politely excused himself, and went inside, which was apparently the opportunity Sam was waiting for. He sidled up to Steve and leaned on the railing casually, but his words conveyed anything but that.

 

 

 

“You seem happy for somebody forced into a marriage by his asshole father.” Sam asked once they were alone on the balcony.

 

“I’m happy. Mom’s safe and happy and I'm at peace. And Bucky's also such a great guy. He's a good guy, Sam.” Steve shrugged and turned away to look at the well kept backyard. There were flower bed on all four sides and a small hedge next to the steps descending from the patio. He mentally made a note to help Bucky in the garden from tomorrow and also to get a few seeds of fruits or vegetables they could grow there. 

 

“Yeah, he is. It’s great you guys ended up like this…”

 

“But?” Steve interrupted, turning sideways to face Sam, when he seemed to trail off with the sentence in lieu of continuing.

 

“But, this is not like you. You don’t get acquainted with an alpha so quick, much less friendly, but here you are playing house with an alpha stranger barely a week after knowing him. Hell seeing him.” Sam finished in a rush, his voice going high in both wonder and anxiety and Steve's heart swelled a little at the concern his friend was showing. He placed a hand on Sam's  forearm and smiled at him softly.

 

“That’s because Bucky is different, Sam. He's not like those condescending, overbearing knotheads I've seen my whole life. He's kind and understanding and friendly. He doesn’t carry the beliefs of an archaic system and he isn’t rubbing the hierarchy in my face. He's so nice, he might be the nicest alpha I've ever met.” Sam's eyes met his then and he smiled in return, his scent easing up on the anxiety and instead returning slowly to its calm nature, before his eyes widened in shock.

 

“You fucking asshole! I'm the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.” He shrieked after a while and Steve doubled over in laughter.

 

“You just called me an asshole.” He wheezed out in between laboured breaths and could hear more than see Sam's  smug smile when he spoke.

 

“Touché.”

 

The best friends were quiet for a while, Sam sipping from his beer and Steve lost in the count of different colours he saw in thei- Bucky's garden. He had gotten up to three before Sam spoke again, his voice quiet, so quiet it blended right into the calm around them.

 

“Did he tell you about that little dream of his? A partner and kids and the whole nine yards?”

 

“Yeah. One of the first things he told me about himself, just after his name.” he smiled at the memory of the first time he met the alpha. The shy, embarrassed alpha who had deemed it fit to apologise to Steve for something his father had done. He remembers thinking of that as a mistake, but now married to Bucky, it doesn’t seem like a mistake anymore. He's free now, has more freedom than he ever had and a huge part of him is happy about it. The other half worries about Bucky broken dreams, the white picket fence in the garden that still isn’t the finished picture of Bucky's happy family.

 

It’s almost selfish how happy Steve is here, where he doesn’t have to worry about groceries, cable, bills and loneliness. He can pretend to himself that he doesn’t feel at home here, that its still lacking something, but it’s not. He's happy here, really happy, more happy than he had been in his own house or his rickety apartment. His dad isn’t being an asshole to his mom, there are no screaming voices, nobody is banging on his door calling out what a disappointment he is and neither is he being smothered in loneliness.  

 

“That dream is him, a very special part of him. He talked about it extensively at the VA in the first few months he was back. He thinks it that’s what got him out of there, safe and alive. Not many people survive what he did, Steve, in fact hardly anybody does. That dream is the salvation of a man who lost everything but himself.” Sam added in a small whisper, turning to look at Steve and smiling sadly. Steve cant bring himself to meet Sam's  gaze, cant bring himself to read to much into Sam's  words. Sam is his best friend, he can read Steve inside out and vice versa, but today Steve hopes that wasn’t true, that he was an enigma to Sam. Because, today, he's himself not sure what Sam can see on his face, what Sam's  reading into.

 

“What are you trying to tell me? What are you getting at?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, his voice closing off at the intensity of Sam's gaze and the seriousness of their conversation.

 

“Don’t get too attached, Steve. You don’t have a place in that dream and that dream did not end with you. James still wants that and you should remind yourself of that. Don’t fall where there's no one to catch you.”

 

“Are you crazy? Bucky and I are just friends, Sam. We barely know each other and I'm not thinking of any-” he splutters in indignation. He knows that, knows that James is still searching for his partner, his love, his family. He knows that he isn’t it, knows nobody could want him like that. Sam's  got this all wrong, Steve's not looking to make a home here with James, as much as he feels he already has, he's just here till either of them finds somebody else.

 

“You guys don’t know each other well, but I know you, Steve. And I know that look in your eye. That twinkle. I saw it for Tony and now I'm seeing it for James. Just be careful and please don’t say anything.” He implored and Steve acquiesced. 

 

He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know what to say. Sam could think whatever he wanted, but that didn’t make it the truth. Steve was not in love with Bucky, nor did he have any feelings for the brunette. Bucky is not Tony and will not become Tony either.

 

He felt he had a home here with the brunette. Felt a sense of peace and quiet he had never felt anywhere else. Felt safe and protected here with Bucky. But that didn’t mean it was anything more than friendship, Steve didn’t even want it to be.

 

Bucky had dreams and Steve was not gonna get in between that.

 

*()*

 

Bucky joins them after a while. The two best friends stayed quiet in the aftermath of their talk, but Sam could still feel the tension in the air, could taste Steve's thoughts at the back of his tongue. He hadn’t meant to push Steve into anything he wasn’t comfortable with, hadn’t even meant to impose any feelings on him either. But, he knew Steve, knew the omega almost as good as he the omega knew him. He could see the hope in Steve's eyes, the smile in his words, the happiness in his smile. After a very long time he was starting to see the Steve he had seen with Tony, free, happy and carefree. He didn’t want Steve to lose that, to lose a chance to have that permanently.

 

He watched quietly as James came out on to the patio and Steve's entire demeanour changed. He seemed almost relieved by James’ entry, his face splitting into a wide grin and it only confirmed Sam's  doubts about his feelings.

 

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, Steve's cheery expression fell and he moved away from the two of them. He made some half murmured excuse about serving dessert and left the two alphas out on the patio.

 

“How do you know him?” as soon as Steve disappeared behind the patio door, James rounded on him, eyebrow as always inquisitively raised, but posture otherwise relaxed.

 

“When Riley died…” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, fighting the tears that always came with the memory of Riley’s death, “he was at the funeral with his dad. Everybody was consoling the family and I was of course not a part of it. He came over, sat next to me and very softly said that he was sorry for my loss. I might have cried for over an hour on his shoulder but he never pushed me away. Let me cry all I wanted and kept my secret safe for me.” He finished just as quietly, always hating that one of his life’s favourite memories also coincided with one of his worst.

 

Meeting Steve had been a blessing. After his army tenure and losing riley, Steve had been the balm to all his wounds. He remembers making last minute dinner and late night movie plans with the blonde because his apartment had always seemed too quiet and the loneliness left in Riley’s wake too all consuming. The blonde never questioned it either, always there as a shoulder for Sam to cry on or an ear to talk off. He was there every day for almost a year. As Sam's  friend, his strength, his backbone and Sam's eternally thankful to him for that, for everything that Steve Rogers is.    

 

He's thankful to Steve and their friendship for what he is today, because otherwise, with the only reason he came out alive from the war buried six feet under, he was also really tempted to end up back there.

 

“How did he know?” James questioned after some time, his voice lacking the curiosity Sam had come to expect but instead doused in a melancholic sympathy that he absolutely despised.

 

“I don’t know, man. He's a smart kid, he figured it out.” He shrugged because as loathe he was to admit it, he also didn’t know how Steve knew, what gave him away. He remembers that day as clear as yesterday. The sky clear and bright, birds chirping overhead, sun shining high and mighty in the sky. It had been a beautiful day, a day perfect for a wedding, but instead delegated to a funeral.

 

He remembers sitting far away from Riley’s family, his sobbing mother and stoic father. He remembers not knowing if he had any right to grieve alongside them, if he was even welcome. He remembers Riley joking about how his father would probably disown him for falling for another alpha, how his mother would probably try to talk him out of it, how his brother would be the only one on his side. He really didn’t feel like checking if that was true.

 

He doesn’t know or remember how Steve found him, what he knew about his past or what he saw in his tears, but he does remember Riley.

 

He remembers Riley’s husky voice in his ear, telling him how he's worth it. How he's worth the disowning, the slurs, the out casting. He remembers Riley’s last words as he lay in Sam's  lap, blood covering his eye, as tears blurred Sam's own, wiping away his tears and giving him a small smile.

 

Be strong, beloved, and go home. This isn’t worth it, losing your life to fight somebody else’s war. Go home and be happy. Next time you remember me, you’d better do it with a goddamn smile on that face, cause I'm definitely watching you from above. Love you, Sam, literally till the day I die.

 

He hadn’t kept that word. He'd remembered Riley while at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, he'd remembered Riley in the midst of a nervous breakdown, he'd remembered Riley when he finally came home, without his home by his side, he'd remembered Riley in the midst of his long prolonged war with PTSD. He'd remembered Riley in every scenario, circumstance and situation and tonight wasn’t any different.

 

He wiped away a tear that escaped his eye and turned away to look at the starless sky above them.

 

“Yeah, he is. Pretty damn sweet too.” James’ voice broke him out of his reverie. It took him a second to realise who James was talking about, and he dried his eyes in the time it took for him to find his voice again.

 

“Sweet, huh? Living the picket fence life here, Barnes?” he teased lightly, his voice a little hoarse and words a little wobbly, and thankfully James pretended not to notice it.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. He's a kid, fresh faced and naïve. Anything between us would be-” the brunette shuddered and Sam turned to him in a flash, disbelieve clouding his scent and his features.

 

“A kid? He’s twenty.”

 

“Barely a year older than Pietro. And not to mention, I'm twenty five.” James counters and Sam shuts his mouth. He knows Pietro, knows James’ past with him, knows how different and similar this whole situation is for him. He places a hand on James’ shoulder and gives him a little squeeze.

 

“He would’ve been thirteen when you were eighteen, is that what you're thinking?” he asks quietly, noticing the memories that flash in front of James’ eyes at that. He gives James the time to answer and leaves his hand exactly where it is, a grounding touch, an anchor.

 

“Yeah. If it was wrong then, it is wrong now. I do not understand how that would change.” James says and his spine straightens. Sam knows James well enough to see the alpha posturing in that stance, the end of the conversion in those words. He knows dominion when he feels it and this is James’ way of establishing his in his own matters.

 

But Sam's  stubborn in his own way, unyielding and alpha like in all ways that count. He turns James around by his shoulder and almost retaliates in kind when James scent flashes in anger but keeps his emotions in check.

 

“Because he's a…” Sam freezes then as Steve enters. He narrows his eyes at James, promising him that this conversation is not over and turns to help Steve with the dessert. James does the same, politely thanking the omega and leaning back against the railing.

 

Sam watches the two of them, James on the railing and Steve on the patio chair and he knows that this is going to be tough. They both are the most stubborn people he's ever seen and getting them to see any reason is bullshit. But he's going to try, for sure.

 

For the happiness that Steve deserves and the family that James wants.

(*)

 

 

 

 

Notes:

I don't think I've ever thanked you guys for all the support you provide me with. Thank you so much.

Thank you for still reading despite irregular updates.
Thank you for always letting me know when I mess up the chapter numbers.
Thank you for every kudos, every comment.
Thank you for being so patient when I go MIA for days on end.
Thank you for never demanding updates.
Thank you for sticking with me through my self doubt and subsequent dearth in updates.
Thank you for being the best readers in the world, never pushy and always there with positive feedback and constructive criticism.

Thank you all, you guys mean so much to me, that words could never convey my gratitude...

Chapter 9: Ghosts of the Past, Seldom Leave

Summary:

Ghosts of the past visit the boys...

Notes:

I'm sorry.

15^th March 2020

“Everyday it becomes harder to get out of bed, to face the world. It feels like betrayal, all those men there in Afghanistan, fighting a war from which there’s no escape, while I sleep safe and comfortable in my bed. It feels like I'm alive because of them and yet I'm ungrateful, disrespectful to all they’ve done for me.”

 

Bucky nodded along with them and gave them a small smile when they finished talking. He took a deep breath as he looked around the bare cream walls of his office and tapped his pen against his note pad.

 

“You’ve got nothing to feel guilty for, Harry. None of this is wrong, you're allowed to have this. You're not betraying your men, you're not erring by trying to live your life. Happiness is a gift, Harry, and you’ve a chance at that, don’t throw it away. That life is over, you can’t go back. What we can do, is start over. It-”

 

A knock to his door interrupted him and Nick, the receptionist’s, face popped in through the crack.

 

“Sergeant, there’s somebody out there to meet you.” He said in one breath.

 

“I’ll be right there, Nick, thank you.”

 

“Then I’ll ask her to wait in the lobby.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Bucky nodded politely at the receptionist and smiled back when he smiled at him. Once Nick disappeared behind the closed door, he turned towards Harry again, the smile dropping from his face instead empathy taking its place. He looked at the far corner of the office, voice dropping an octave lower as he got lost in his own nightmares and saw the war flash in his own eyes as he spoke.

 

“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about, Harry. You did your part in the war, you sacrificed a part of yourself. The men out there, they’re doing the same. We cannot feel sorry for everybody who’s stuck there fulfilling their part, all we can do is pray for them and help them in ways we can. Go visit their families, play with their kids, maybe write them a letter. Your life is a gift they’ve given you and you cannot throw it away by crawling into your covers every morning and refusing to come out. This remorse, guilt that you're feeling, it’s not gonna help them or you, so it’s best to nip it in the bud and move on. You’ve done your part, let others do the same. Do you understand me?” he questions loudly as he finishes talking and turns to look at Harry.

 

Harry nods their head and looks down before speaking, a hint of remorse and empathy in their voice too, like they could see the horrors that Bucky could.

 

“Yes. Thank you, James. These talks help a lot.” They answer with a smile and stand to shake Bucky's hand. Bucky offers a hand in return and gives a firm shake, returning the smile and feeling content without the guilt in Harry’s scent.

 

“That’s what we’re here for, Harry. Thank you for coming in. I’ll see you at the group session on Thursday.”

 

“Sir, yes, sir.” They smirk and Bucky returns the smirk, knowing well that they were a captain in their serving days and easily Bucky's senior. He gives a mock salute to the retreating alpha and makes his way to the lobby, ready to meet his visitor after a satisfying session. 

 

He's expecting blonde hair and a bony body. He's expecting high cheekbones and the sweet scent of vanilla. He's expecting a male body and pale complexion.

 

What he's not expecting is long, brown hair and a full, curvy body. What he's not expecting are round cheeks and the strong scent of paprika. What he's not expecting is a female body and pale complexion.

 

“Wanda?”

 

“Hey, Bucky. Missed me?” comes her reply, words confident yet tone slightly off. She flings her eyes nervously around the room before they settle on him and the action unsettles him immediately. He feels his scent spike in fight mode and in return her eyes narrow at him.

 

“Of course, I.. uh.. what are you doing here, Wanda?” he grips and sees her shoulders tighten.

 

“Straight to the point, I see.” She takes a deep breath and looks at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. “I spoke to Pietro.” She looks straight into his eyes and he is reminded of all he times he's believed she can read his very soul. He fidgets under the intensity of her gaze but straightens immediately and answers her challenge with his defiance.

 

“Oh. He tell you what happened?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then you should know I kept my word. You asked me to stay away from your brother and I did.” He answers coolly like that sentence and the subsequent memories don’t burn his mouth and heart as he speaks them.

 

His thoughts fly back to that faithful night, a year and a half back, when she had come to meet him, the setting similar and yet so different. That day the situation had been a little different, Bucky had two hands and Wanda had been a lot more scarier. He remembers the then newly eighteen turned teenager at his door, eyes ablaze in anger and mouth twisted in a scowl. Remembers the subsequent angry words and insults. Remembers the feeling of his heart breaking.   

 

You're a disgusting human being, James. Scum, a fucking knothead.

 

“I know you did, Bucky, I’m…I don’t-” the young alpha began and then stopped, her nervous eyes flinging from Bucky to the sofas and back to the door behind them. She looked around the bare walls while Bucky tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

 

“This is my place of work, Wanda, if there's nothing you want to say to me, then I suggest you leave. Now, please.” He turns away from her and starts walking back to the office, leaving the young alpha tongue tied. Her nervous and afraid scent follows him, but he opts to ignore it in favour of his own anger.

 

There had been a time when he would be never left her this distressed, when the sight of a nervous Wanda would’ve made him a mess, when he would’ve tried anything to soothe her. But that was a long time ago, some very angry words ago.

 

You're so much older than him and you want him? Somebody you should’ve always seen as a brother, but instead you wish to bed him?

 

“I made a mistake. I made a grave mistake, Bucky. I should’ve never told you to stay away from Pietro, never come in between you guys. I… I don’t know what I was afraid of, I just…” she began and Bucky turned around in spite of himself. He looked over her, her red eyes and her equally flushed face and took a step towards her, the brotherly instincts he believed he had buried a long time ago, resurfacing at just the sight of the breaking girl.   

 

“You know what you're afraid of, Wanda. You’ve always known and you still do. What I don’t understand is why you won’t tell me. Why did you ask me to stay away from him? Why did you separate us? What is it, what’s got you all tense?” he asked quietly, forcing his scent to settle and radiate calmness, not anger. He cleared his thoughts and focussed on the young alpha in front of him, even as they tried hard to wander in the past and file through their last interaction.

 

When you turned 18, the day you became legal, he was just 12. If it was wrong then, it’s wrong now.

 

“I thought you were going to be like the others. The alphas who would only help us in exchange of something. I was afraid you’d hurt him, use him till you got bored.”

 

Something inside him broke then.

 

 “You thought I was capable of something like that? After all the time you’d known me?” he almost yelled, hardly able to believe the words coming out of the mouth of the young girl he had raised, looked after, cared for. He thought back to all the times he'd held her when she cried, had bandaged her wounds, saved her from starvation. Had this been there in her thoughts then? Had she always thought he was after their vulnerability only?

 

You stay away from my brother. Don’t try to trap him in your vile deceptions. You abused his vulnerability, our despair.

 

“I didn’t know whom to trust. We were so young then and you seemed so nice. As we grew older, you never changed and that was scary. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to become like all other men. I was afraid for my little brother, Bucky, he was besotted with you and you returned those feelings. I was sure that was a trap, that you were just looking for a young body. I couldn’t help it, he wasn’t even 18, how was I to think different.” She wailed and took a step towards him, seeking comfort in her grief, from the tears she was shedding.

 

Bucky took a step back from her, his mouth falling open in shock at the accusation, at what she had believed of him. His scent sobbed in sorrow at the lose of trust he had never had, at memories the both of them had seen differently. What he had believed to be some of the best memories of his life were apparently Wanda’s time spent with a monster.

 

“I wasn’t going to make a move on him before he was 18. I'm not a monster. I know it was wrong to have feelings for somebody years younger to me, was gross and disgusting and I get it. But my feelings were never wrong. I genuinely liked him, loved him even, I would’ve never hurt him. Never.” He was almost down to his knees, sobbing his heart out. He took a deep breath and looked straight at her, closing off his eyes to all emotions and forcing his scent into neutrality.  

 

You make me sick. Being all nice to us, just to have my brother in your bed. I'm ashamed I ever thought of us as a brother, you make me sick. A monster, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 

“I know. I know that now. I'm sorry, Bucky. I'm so sorry. Please don’t break my brother’s heart, please don’t. He’s so sad. He hasn’t eaten in days, he's been crying non-stop and I don’t know how to stop it, don’t know how to calm him down. Please help me, please don’t let my brother hurt for something I did.” She took another step towards him and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to move away. She clutched his hands between her own and sobbed into their intertwined hands, her scent making the air around them clog with unhappy and grief stricken pheromones.

 

“I did what you asked of me. I broke both our hearts because you made me promise to. I can’t keep going back and forth with him like this, Wanda. What excuse am I gonna make? I suddenly don’t see him as a brother or that I'm suddenly into incest?” he questioned, trying and failing to keep his tone snarky. He closed his eyes as another burst of the past flashed in front of them and he felt his knees wobbling pathetically again.

Stay away from him and keep your feelings and hands to yourself. My brother is never to be yours.

 

“I'm sorry. I really am. I’ll explain to him. I’ll tell him that whatever happened, happened because of me. I’ll tell him about the promise you made me. I’ll fix it, Bucky. Please let me fix it. He's heartbroken and I can’t see it anymore. Please, give my brother another chance. Give me another chance.”

 

“He’s not gonna forgive you for this, Wanda. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle that? Handle his anger and contempt? Are you willing to sabotage your relationship with your brother to make my relationship with him work?” he asked quietly, his eyes widening in surprise.

 

Wanda looked straight into his eyes, her gaze strong and unwavering, like her spirit, and nodded at him. She squeezed his hands reassuringly and took a step back from him, dropping her hands to the sides.

 

“If that’s what makes him happy, then yes. A thousand times yes.” She replied with conviction.

 

“You'd do that?” at her affirming nod, he continued, “You're an amazing sister. He's lucky to have you.” He smiled at her softly and she returned the gesture, albeit a little sad.

 

“Not that amazing. I destroyed the one good thing in his life before he could even have it. That doesn’t make me a good sister, it makes me the worst.” She amended and he felt his heart break for her. She was justified in her stance, for the decision she made, for the words she said. She wasn’t wrong in assuming what she did, given the kind of life both of them had led and she had lashed out in a way Bucky would also have done. Had somebody come to harm Wanda or Pietro, he would’ve done the same, would’ve broken them before they could even try.

 

“You had your reasons, your fears. He’ll understand, I'm sure. Or I can talk to him, if you’d be okay with that.”

 

“Guess I'm gonna have to green light all your interactions from now on, huh?” she smiled at him and he looked down as he felt his cheeks burn. She smirked at his reaction and then continued, “Talk to him after I'm done. I'm sure he’ll come running to you afterwards.”

 

He nodded in reply and she took a step forward, coming to stand in his personal space and threw her hands around him, enveloping him in a long overdue hug. He hugged her back just as tightly, the memories of that faithful night disappearing in her arms and only the happy memories surfacing again.

 

“Take care of my brother, James. If you hurt him, I’ll cut your dick and feed it to the pigeons.” She threatened, but the threat was undercut by the tears in her eyes and the fondness in her voice. He laughed into his shoulder and fought his own tears.

 

“Ooo, shovel talk. Been waiting for one. I’ll take care of him, Wanda. I’ll always take care of him. He's safe with me, I promise. Otherwise, you know where to find me.” He answered seriously and let go of her, stepping back to let her get herself together again.

 

She smiled at him as she wiped her eyes and gave him a grateful smile which he returned.

 

“Thank you. I guess, I’ll see you later. Bye, James. Take care.”

 

“You too, Wanda. And remember, if you ever wanna talk, I'm there.”

 

“Thank you.” She turned around and started walking out of the VA, leaving Bucky with a full heart and overflowing feelings. He could finally be with the man he loved, could finally get together with him and mend his relationship with Wanda. If anybody was thankful and grateful, it was him. He was a very happy man toady. A man whose family was finally complete.

 

(*)

Steve absolutely despised these new hipster places. He hated the complicated coffee orders, hated the cost of a simple black coffee and hated the people who thought they were better than him just because of their vegan eating and cups made of cow dung or some shit.

 

The only reason he still came here though, was also the people. Despite the small crowd of sanctimonious pricks, there was also a huge number of liberals in there. People who saw him as more than just an omega and who saw his talents as an artist. The alphas were great here, they didn’t push Steve around, served him coffee with a smile and wished him a good day instead of asking him if he was down to take a knot.

 

That is, the crowd on a normal day, today he absolutely hated this place and everybody here. Among the bare minimum people in the café, was one he had never thought he'd see again. One, with whom he had thought his time was done. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, smelling, feeling. But there was no mistaking it; the smell of metal and oil, the sight of brown hair and goatee and the feeling of a rock on Steve's heart.

 

He carefully approached the table in the corner, his coffee in hand and a nervous smile on his face. He could ignore the brunette and leave, could pretend he never saw him here, but his manners would never let him do that. His mom raised him better than to leave without greeting somebody he knew and Steve knows better than to go against his mother’s words.

 

“Tony?” he lightly tapped the beta’s shoulder and he turned around with a bored expression. But as soon as his eyes fell on Steve, he pushed his glasses off his face and jumped up to pull Steve into a hug.

 

“Steve Rogers, as I live and breathe. It’s been so long, Rapunzel, where you been?” he thumped Steve's back twice and let him go when Steve started coughing lightly. He gave the brunette a small smile and took the seat opposite him.

 

Tony sat back on his seat and eagerly took a sip of his scalding coffee, eyes never leaving Steve and smile firmly in place.

 

There was a time, Steve adored that smile.

 

“Decided to start working from home. Thought it’d be easier to do with all the schooling and stuff.” Steve shrugged and hoped Tony wouldn’t catch the lie in the statement. He had stopped going to office so that he could attend college, but then he had never started that either. He had just…not…

 

“You still learning? I thought you decided you didn’t want to attend college.” Tony raised an eyebrow in question and Steve grit his teeth together. He'd hoped Tony wouldn’t bring that up, had hoped Tony would forget they ever had that conversation, but he should’ve known the genius would remember that and would certainly bring it up.

 

“I've always wanted to go to college, Tony. What I said was that I didn’t want to do it on your dad’s money.”

 

“God Rogers! That pride is gonna kill you one day.” The brunette smiled kindly and Steve returned the smile, hiding the majority of it behind his coffee cup.

 

“Well I'm sure it can try.” He chuckled and the two sat together in companionable silence for a while.

To neither of their surprise it was Tony who broke the silence, his words and tone sending an arrow through Steve's mangled heart. He kept his face hidden behind his coffee cup and refused to look at Tony as he spoke.

 

“I’m sorry for what happened, Steve. I didn’t know. I never knew I was going to hurt you so much.” The beta’s tone and scent conveyed his genuine regret and sympathy, but Steve was in no mood to be at the receiving end of anybody’s pity. He pushed his coffee cup away from him on the table and looked at Tony with all sincerity he could muster.

 

“It was never your fault, Tony. I kept it a secret from you, I was the coward. You didn’t know what I was feeling, you only did what you felt was right.” He argued  gently and hoped the beta would leave it there. Wouldn’t start a whole discussion and dissection of Steve's feelings in a café, smack in the middle of Brooklyn.

 

But he knew Tony wouldn’t leave it there, it would keep coming up in the conversation. He hoped he had made the right decision then, had left without saying anything to Tony. It wouldn’t have been rude either, Tony had never known he was there to begin with. He could’ve left, they wouldn’t be having this conversation and he could’ve kept the broken parts of his heart to himself.

 

Now it was all just scattered in front of the man who broke it in the first place.

 

“Maybe I should’ve known. We were such close friends, I don’t know how I never noticed. I'm sorry, Steve, but please don’t stay away from the company because of me. Dad misses you, you know. He never found another to match your grit and determination.” He had hoped Tony wouldn’t play the dad card, wouldn’t bring Mr Stark into it, but he had and judging by the spark in his eyes he knew Tony knew he had hit Steve's weak spot. He grit his teeth together and fisted his hands under the table, trying extra hard to temper his scent to something resembling neutral and not straight up pissed.

 

In the event of his own father being an absolute asshole, Mr Stark had been the closest thing to a father to him. The man had taken Steve under his wing, offered a job to Steve despite his omega status and his weak health and had enabled Steve a chance to start a life of his own, away from his father. He had offered Steve money to complete his schooling and further offered him money to study art in NYU. He had always said Steve was the son he never had and both of them had had some great times playing cards in their free time. Mr Stark would often take time out of his schedule and come visit Steve in his office, bringing along some art he liked and offering Steve the work. He would then proceed to tell Steve that he also had a chance to become rich and famous one day and that he was better than all the others out there.

 

To say he missed Mr Stark too, would be an understatement.

 

“I didn’t stay away because of you, I had-have my own reasons. Tell Mr Stark that I'm sorry, but I will come to visit him, to thank him for all he's done for me, to thank him for still letting me keep the job.”

 

“He'd have to be an idiot to let you go. You're our best, Steve.” Tony replied immediately and some of Steve's temper cooled at the compliment. He mustered a real smile and thanked Tony sincerely.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Would you come back if I said I missed you too. The office is a dull space without you, Rapunzel, nobody gets my sense of humour.” He gave Steve a lopsided smile and Steve saw the man he had fallen hard and fast for. This was dangerous territory for him. Every time Tony had smiled at him like that, Steve had agreed to any thing he said. This was the smile that had gotten them arrested, this was the smile that had them sneaking out of the Stark Gala, this was the smile Steve had really, really adored.

 

“I'm afraid that ship has sailed, my friend. I'm sorry.” He replied sadly, his heart hurting inside his chest at the sight of Tony after all these days. He couldn’t believe what he was doing here, why he thought he should hurt himself all over, how he thought he could see Tony again and not go on a masochistic trip of hurting all over.

 

His scent was in dangerous territory too, almost wailing in hurt and Steve was having a hard time controlling it as Tony’s scent flew into sympathetic territory.

 

“No worries, as long as you are happy.” The beta replied quietly and went back to sipping his coffee, sympathetic eyes still on Steve. Steve averted his eyes from the brunette and scrambled to change the topic.

 

“I am. Are you?” and some part of him wants to hear a no, wants Tony to admit that he isn’t happy without Steve by his side, that he likes Steve too, the way Steve had liked him once. He wants Tony to weep for his love, tell Steve that he missed him for real, that he wanted Steve to not only come back to the office but also into his life.  

 

“Yeah. More than I've been in a very long time. Pepper’s amazing, Steve. She keeps me on my toes and she matches me snark to snark and sass to sass. It’s like dating a female, alpha version of myself, but with better management skills.” Tony’s face broke into a sappy grin and the colour drained from Steve's face. He had never heard Tony speak like that about anybody, had never seen him wear such a dopey smile on his face. The beta was floating on air at the moment and Steve's heart plunged in despair.

 

“And that narcissistic brain of yours loves it?” his tone didn’t come out as light as he thought it would, instead came out in a bitter whisper.

 

“So much. I- Oh shit! I'm so sorry, Steve. I should’ve never. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up in front of you. I'm sorry…I-” Tony spluttered and Steve was desperate to wipe that pitying look of his faced. He waved a hand nonchalantly and looked at Tony with all the disinterest he could muster.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Tony. I'm over whatever feelings I had for you, it’s an old story now, I've moved on.”

 

“You have?” the beat questioned cautiously, his voice belaying genuine curiosity and mirth.

 

“Yup. I'm married now. Most handsome alpha you’ve ever seen. James.” And Steve's eyes widened at his own answer. He couldn’t do that to Bucky, couldn’t use him as a means to make Steve's ex crush jealous. Bucky wasn’t a prop in the drama that was Steve's life and he had to get the poor alpha out of this immediately.

 

“James? Married? Are you kidding me?” at Tony’s incredulous tone, all of Steve's previous plans flew out of the window. All he could think about was wiping that all knowing smirk of Tony’s face and proving him wrong once and for all.

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“You do realise that you’ve got no ring on your finger and no mating bite, right? The basic things in a marriage?” Tony's tone was disbelieving and it caused something ugly to flare in Steve's gut. He raised an eyebrow in challenge as he scrambled for an answer to that question.  

 

“Well…the ring was a little big for me, so it’s gone for resizing. And as far as the bond mark is concerned, we’re waiting for my heat. I'm not a bite before marriage guy.” He scoffed and Tony turned bright red at his expression. He cleared his throat and waved  a hand in Steve's general direction.

 

“Oh, well, uh… good for you. You still living in that dump of an apartment?”

 

“Nope, we’re living in a house a little off the city. You should come visit sometime, bring Pepper along. My husband makes a mean lasagne.” Steve huffed in pride and pushed his lungs out a little at that. He was finally on the other side of this relationship, he wasn’t the one who was jealous and he was the one living the better life now. He signalled the barista for another coffee and watched shock filter through Tony's eyes.   

 

“I’d love to, today if possible. I've got a meeting with the board tomorrow and I'm not ready to go home yet and have father discuss it to death with me. Take me with you, I promise to be out of your hair before 11.” Steve's mouth fell open in shock. He wasn’t…he couldn’t, he'd given James no warning of this. Their agreement specified a day’s time and Steve  was playing with a mere hour or two right now. He fumbled for something to say and jumped on the first thing to cross his mind.

 

“Why not crash at Pepper’s?”

 

“Because my dad’s secretary is not going to understand my reluctance to go home. C’mon, Rapunzel, you're supposed to be smarter than that.” Tony smiled hauntingly at him and Steve knew his pride wouldn’t let him back down anymore. He brushed non existent lint of his shoulder and rolled his shoulders backwards.

 

“Okay, you can come. But, let me call my husband first and let him know. I can’t surprise him with the worst gift ever.” He made a pointing gesture towards his phone and turned towards Tony with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say something to that. Tony just smiled at him and pointed at his chest, poking lightly and pouting simultaneously.

 

“I'm hurt, Rogers, how dare you?”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and dialled Bucky's number. This was going to be a long night and he just hoped Tony didn’t annoy Bucky into murdering him.  

 

(*)

 

Bucky's ears rang from the constant ringing of the doorbell. Whoever was there at his door, was certainly in some kind of hurry to see Bucky or just an obnoxious asshole who Bucky was going to chew out. He placed the dishes he was washing back in the sink and washed his hands. He shook his hands out to dry them, before the fourth shrill ringing came through.

 

He ran across the hallway and threw open the door, ready to scream and abuse the person on the other side. But as soon as his eyes fell on his visitor, the words died on his tongue and he was in grave danger of swallowing the same. He blinked twice in an attempt to make the mirage disappear but he still stood right in front of Bucky.

 

Eyes red rimmed and watery, complexion pale but splotchy with red, cheeks wet and tear streaked, lips bitten red and wobbling dangerously.

 

He could barely speak and when he did, the words came out scratchy and clipped.

 

“Pietro? What are-”

 

“You love me, you’ve always loved me. I wasn’t wrong, I was never wrong.” The blonde fell into his arms, sobbing and weeping, his voice catching on every word, the sobs wracking through his chest and into Bucky's. The alpha wrapped his arms around the breaking beta, cooing soothingly into his ears and rubbing his back, the metal arm combing through his soft hair. 

 

“No you weren’t, sweetheart, you were never wrong. I love you, Pietro, I've always loved you.” He whispered in the blonde’s ears, fighting to keep his scent and voice calm, to not break alongside the beta. He couldn’t cry now, as much as the image of a sobbing Pietro hurt him, he couldn’t do the same. He had to stay strong, had to comfort the beta and his haywire alpha pheromones wouldn’t be able to do it.

 

“I was so upset,  so sad. I thought you were gonna be upset with me, that I’d destroyed whatever relation we had with each other. I thought you’d hate me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Piet, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I had a promise to keep, I'm so sorry. Please don’t be sad, not anymore, sweetheart. I'm never gonna let you hurt again.” He slowly walked them backwards till they stood inside the house, right in the doorway. He closed the door softly behind them and positioned Pietro’s head against the crook where his shoulder met his neck, letting the beta nose at his scent glands and draw comfort from it.

 

Pietro drew a deep breath, Bucky's calm scenting soothing his own. He kept quiet for a while, taking deep breath and nosing along Bucky's gland, scenting him in a way no one had done before.

 

Bucky drew a deep breath in return, Pietro's own scent and scenting proving almost too much to him. He could feel his resolve breaking, the primal need in him awakening and demanding him to throw Pietro on to the couch and have his way. He willed the feelings of arousal away and continued petting the upset beta in his arms.

 

“My own sister was against my happiness, she came between us. I- I can’t…why would she? How could she?” Pietro whispered after a while, his quiet tone still reverberating in Bucky's home and heart. He drew a deep breath again, drawing strength from their combined scents and tried explaining everything to the distraught beta. 

 

“She was scared, Pietro. She only did what any caring sister would do. I'm older to you by a lot of years, sweetheart. Six years is a lot and she was scared it’s going to come between us. She was afraid I would hurt you. She had her reasons for being sacred and you know that, Piet.”

 

“What did she tell you? What did she make you promise her?” Pietro asked and Bucky's eyes closed involuntarily.

 

He'd been dreading this question. He didn’t know if he should tell Pietro what had happened that day, the venom in the words Wanda had spewed at him, the disgust he had felt for himself. He knew Pietro's relationship with Wanda was probably already strained and given the quiet determination in Pietro's voice, he can guess that Wanda hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t want to be the one doing it either, he can’t damage their relationship for the sake of his own.

 

“She- uh…it doesn’t matter. You're here now and that’s all that matters. Please let’s not discuss this now, I'm finally getting a chance to hold you in my arms, I don’t want to waste another moment.”

 

Pietro moved out of his arms then and looked him straight in the eye. He couldn’t meet the blonde’s pleading expression and averted his eyes. Pietro took his face in his hands and turned him around to meet his gaze, blue eyes boring into grey, pleading eyes searching troubled ones.

 

“I need to know, Bucky. Because of her, we lost so much time. I need to know what she said, how she kept you away from me. Please, tell me this. Let’s not have anymore secrets between us. Please.”

Bucky was a lost cause the moment those eyes met his. He was already talking when the imploring tone reached him. He was crying before he could hear the plea in Pietro's words.

 

“She said that I was sick to want the things I wanted. She said that I was a monster, the worst scum on earth. She said I was taking advantage of you, of her and the vulnerable position you both were in. She asked me to stay away from you, to never look at you or think of you as anything other than a brother. And I tried, Piet, I tried every time. But you always came back, no matter how much I pushed you away, you found me when I didn’t want to be found and you loved me when I was afraid to do the same. Thank you, sweetheart, thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

 

He lifted his hands to wipe at his eyes and Pietro dropped his from his face. The blonde took a step back from him and dropped his hands to his side, his eyes tearing up again and eyes wide in shock.

 

“She said all that to you? She hurt you, Bucky. She…she said such…” Pietro started grasping for breath in between words, his voice coming in short, breathless puffs of air. Bucky moved forward and took him into his arms again, rubbing his back and soothingly whispering in his ear.

 

“Pietro, baby, please calm down. Please. Breathe with me, Pietro, c’mon breathe with me.”

 

Pietro did as he was told, taking deep breaths in sync with Bucky and trying to calm the beat of his heart to match the alpha’s. He buried his nose in Bucky's scent gland again and let the alpha’s soothing scent and voice calm him down before he could have a panic attack. Bucky held him through it all and kept whispering praises and encouragements in his ears, never letting him fall back into his headspace and keeping him grounded with a hand around his waist and other rubbing up and down his back. 

 

“Feeling better?” he asked after a long while, his voice gentle and soft, despite having gone a little hoarse after the prolonged silence.

 

“Yeah. I-” Pietro began again, but Bucky shushed him this time, a finger on his lip and face mere inches from the blonde’s.

 

“No. No, we’re not going to talk about that anymore. You're here and that is behind us. I don’t want to talk about the past anymore, sweetheart, I only wanna think about the present. The present where you're in my arms and every fibre of my being is asking me to kiss you. May I, sweetheart? May I kiss you?”

 

“Yes…yes, Bucky, please.” Pietro whispered softly and that was all the go ahead Bucky needed.

 

The moment their lips touched, a current passed through Bucky's spine. He wrapped both his arms around the beta and led him to the couch. They fell on to the couch in a heap, lips never leaving the other, arms touching, feeling and loving. Bare hands on bare skin, lips on neck, hands pulling closer and closer. Legs intertwined, bodies moving in a rhythm, hearts beating as one.

 

Somewhere in the dining room, Bucky's phone rang, once twice.

 

“Your phone…” Pietro whispered breathlessly, taking deep breaths in between fiery kisses. 

 

“Not important.” Bucky growled back and surged in to kiss the lips of the one he loved, phone be damned…

(*)

 

“Damnit, Bucky pick up, pick up.” Steve muttered under his breath as the third call also went to voicemail. He was getting frustrated and a little bit worried about Bucky's inability to answer the calls and it seemed to amuse Tony to no end.

 

“Darling husband not picking up?” he chuckled and Steve grit his teeth together at that sound. Once upon a time it used to make his insides tingle, but this was not that time.

 

“Shut up, Tony.”

 

He was really worried about Bucky, it wasn’t like him to not respond to calls. He chewed his lips nervously and contemplated making another call. He just hoped Bucky was at home and safe. He prayed silently and dialed the number again.

 

(*)

 

 

Notes:

You're allowed to yell at me in the comments. You're also allowed to cry or tell me all about your grief. I'll reply to each and every one.

Chapter 10: Fake or Not

Summary:

Tony and Steve are on the way home...

Notes:

Steve says "Love you, Bucky"...*squeals and screams*

Sorry about the late update but I think I'll make it up to you guys in this chapter...

15^th March 2020

When he dials the same number for the fifth time, his hands shake minutely and his breath comes a little shallow. He's on the verge on crying, maybe panicking and none of them are a good sign. He's not the kind to cry easy, not the kind to cry at all, but the fear of losing a friend is too heavy for him to shake without a few tears. He takes a deep breath when the ringtone goes once, twice, thrice…and finally exhales when Bucky picks up during the fourth ring.

 

“Steve… are you okay? What happened?” the alpha sounds a little out of breath, a little frantic and scared and it does little to nothing to soothe Steve's nerves. He is aware of the distressed scent he is giving off and the worried looks Tony is shooting him, but he knows the brunette is smart enough not to say anything about it. He cradles the phone closer to himself, subconsciously trying to hold Bucky closer through his voice and exhales a long held breath at the voice he'd convinced himself he'd never hear again.

 

“Oh god Bucky! I've been calling you for the past fifteen minutes. Where have you been? Are you okay?” his voice is nothing but the tail end of the breath he's exhaling as he shoots tony a glance out of the corner of his eye and angles himself towards the window.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about the scare, Steve. I was a little occupied.” Bucky replies a little sheepishly and Steve frowns at the answer. He wants to know what Bucky was up to, but decides to forgo the questioning, considering he was still in the car with a very inquisitive brunette who is notorious for his nosiness.

 

“You had me worried. Don’t do that again, asshole.” He muttered irritated and heard Tony snort from bedside him. He smiled at the sound, a sound he had adored for so long and looked out of the window wistfully.

 

Too long ago…too much time had passed. He didn’t have feelings for Tony anymore. It should’ve made him jubilant, ecstatic, but it made him sad, like he had lost something, something important…

 

“Aw, were you worried about me, Rogers. That’s cute.” Bucky's teasing reply came and Steve smiled at that, at the smile in Bucky's voice.

 

He had been worried, more worried than he had any right to be for a guy he had known all of seven days. He'd already imagined the worst things in his head and he had been mere minutes away from panicking. Steve's past had taught him that if somebody was not replying, chances were they were either hospitalised again or deeply injured. He couldn’t even imagine that, didn’t want to. But the fear he felt, the biting, crippling fear…he didn’t want to think about it, not now, not ever…

 

He'd think about it later. In the comfort of darkness and the quiet of the night.

 

“Shut up. You're the worst, my god!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the worst, a nightmare, a heathen who doesn’t drink coffee, I've heard it all, Steve, except the reason I have five missed calls on my phone.”

 

“Oh yeah. Uhm...listen, a friend of mine is coming over and we uh…” he began but found himself unable to complete the sentence. He paused for a while, trying to find the words in his head, but nothing he came up with could get his dilemma across tactfully and explain to Bucky that he was expected to play Steve's husband without the blonde outright saying so.

 

“Coming over when? Should I make my killer lasagne again?” Bucky questioned and Steve could already hear him walking, opening and closing kitchen cabinets. He sighed softly and chanced a glance at Tony again. The beta appeared to be concentrating on the road ahead but Steve knew he was intently listening to their conversation.

 

“Coming over right now. Bucky, we…” he paused again, the words stuck at the back of his throat and unable to stumble out. He gritted his teeth in annoyance and on the opposite side he heard Bucky close the kitchen cabinet, his tone a little impatient this time. 

 

“We, what, Steve? Are you guys coming together?”

 

“Yes, honey, we’re just five minutes away. Think you can manage?” he asked quietly and hoped Bucky would pick up on what he meant. He silently prayed to the few Gods he knew and held his breath while Bucky kept his silence for a few seconds.

 

“Oh…so it’s like that. Got it, sweet cheeks. Best fake- real husband at your service.” He exhaled shakily and thanked all the gods who had come to his rescue. He smiled at the horrible nickname the brunette had given him and chuckled at how well he had taken to Steve's impromptu request.

 

“Jesus Christ you're actually the worst.” He replied with no heat behind his words and heard Bucky laugh softly at his accusation.

 

“Now, now, plum pudding, that’s no way to talk to your husband. You're hurting his poor heart.”

 

“Aww, my custard apple, I didn’t mean to do that. I'm sorry, devilled eggs.” He retaliated and was pleased with Bucky's answering coughing fit. He smiled to himself while Bucky coughed out his indignation and puffed his chest out minutely when he heard Bucky whine.

 

“Aww, man, that’s bad. You win, Rogers, but this is not over. You said five minutes right? Think you can stall them for a few more minutes?” the brunette questioned and Steve immediately looked around to gauge their estimated time of arrival. Spotting the T-junction five minutes away from Bucky's home, he made a quick decision.

 

“I can pick up food on the way. So around twenty five minutes then. Okay?” he questioned softly and directed Tony towards the little Chinese restaurant he knew was at the end of the road to the right. Tony huffed in annoyance but complied and Steve once again thanked whatever lucky stars were finally aligning in his favour.

 

“Perfect, little cinnamon roll. See you then.” Bucky replied with a smile in his voice and Steve decided to let the nickname slide for this time. He did however smile at the stupidity of it and he was sure Bucky picked it up from his voice when he replied.

 

“Bye, Buck.”

 

Bucky hangs up and Steve chances another glance at the brunette beside him. He knows his conversation with Bucky was not the biggest proof of their relationship and save for the first nickname, all they have used are funny names, so he's not sure Tony is buying his bullshit. The brunette was smart and Steve did not want to mess this up and prove himself to be a bigger loser than he seemed when he was pining after Tony, a loser who had to create a fake relationship.

 

He thought for a moment and before lowering the phone, whispered softly enough for it to seem like a lover’s secret. 

 

“Love you too, Buck. Bye.” He then lowers the phone and tucks it away in his jeans, turning all the way to look out the window. It’s the most he can do at the moment and he hopes Bucky puts up a better show at home.

 

(*)

 

Steve enters the house with a thundering heart and a very eager Tony at his heel. Bucky opens the door with a smile, dressed casually in a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt, he looks absolutely gorgeous and Steve has to agree with Tony when the brunette whistles softly at the sight of his husband.

 

“Hey, sweetheart, welcome home. Did you have a good day?” Bucky questions softly as he enters and leans down a little to brush his nose against his. Steve's breath stutters for a minute at the proximity of the alpha and his scent and has to clear his throat twice to get his voice back.

 

“Yeah. I brought food and a friend.” He gestures towards Tony who stands grinning to his side and watches nervously as Bucky moves to shake Tony’s hand.

 

“Ah, two Fs out of my favourite three, if you know what I mean.” The alpha winks salaciously at Steve and turns to Tony with a friendly grin. Steve's heart thunders in his chest at the action and he wills himself to calm down before he blows their poorly thought out plan and outs himself. He watches with a small and strained smile as Tony accepts the handshake and bends forward conspiringly, immediately lowering his volume as if to share a secret.

 

“Don’t I know what you mean. I'm Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” He introduces himself and a spark of recognition comes alive in Bucky's eyes. He shakes Tony’s hand enthusiastically and points towards himself.

 

“James Barnes. Sergeant, veteran, VA volunteer and Steve's husband.”

 

“You sure husband’s supposed to be up there?” Tony questions playfully and Bucky’s face becomes serious for a few seconds. Steve moves forward to intervene but the brunette regains his smile back and chuckles softly.

 

“Nothing else deserves to be.” He replies, no mirth in his voice and no lack of seriousness on his face. Tony looks at him for moment, eyes calculating and sharp and then let out a small laugh at whatever he sees in them.

 

“Wow, Rogers, bagged a good one, huh? Where can I find one?” he patted Steve's back and gave Bucky another once over, more playful than anything, while Steve revelled in the beautiful blush that bloomed on Bucky's face.

 

“In your dad’s office, dressed in a pencil skirt and killer heels.” He remarked to Tony and smiled in satisfaction when Tony laughed and walked inside after giving him another pat on his back and a mock salute to Bucky.

 

“Good one, Rogers, always a tough one to beat.”

 

“Come in, Tony. Make yourself at home.”

 

“Thanks, Buckaroo. I'm going to call you Buckaroo because Steve called you Bucky.” He states to Bucky as he walks by and Bucky subtly raises an eyebrow at Steve. The omega shrugs in defeat and Bucky smiles softly at him. He then turns towards Tony, arms crossed across his chest and mouth pursued.

 

“Steve's my husband and you are…” he deliberately lets his sentence hang in the air and Steve starts laughing at the absolutely priceless expression on Tony’s face. Tony’s the biggest smartass Steve's ever seen but Bucky’s remark leaves him silent, an achievement all in itself. Tony turns to see him laughing and then turns back to Bucky with an impressed smile.

 

“My god! You guys are a match made in heaven. As much as I love your argument, no dice, Buckaroo. You're just gonna have to deal.”

 

“As much as I love seeing Tony stunned, I'm going to have to steal Bucky for a second. Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself and not break anything?” Steve asks with a small smile and gestures for Bucky to follow him. Bucky smiles at Tony’s mock-insulted expression and comes to stand next to Steve.

 

“Scout’s honour.” Tony promises and Steve gives him his most unimpressed look.

 

“You were not a scout.”

 

“But I'm as honourable as one.” The brunette answers and Steve decides to leave him be in the drawing room while he discusses important things with his (fake) husband.

 

(*)

 

As soon as they enter Steve's bedroom, the blonde turns to Bucky with a beaming smile and grateful eyes. He clasps the brunettes forearms in his hand and shakes them a little in his excitement.

 

“Thank you so much, Buck. You saved my ass.” He exclaims excitedly and Bucky laughs at the pure enthusiasm in his voice. He grips Steve's hands back and shakes him a little, mimicking his action from before, before dropping it and shrugging lightly.

 

“No problem, honey bunches, it is a pleasure.” He exclaims in a high voice which is nothing but a poor imitation of Steve's voice and Steve gives him a playful shove in the ribs.

 

“I'm gonna be hearing about this every day, aren’t I?” Steve asks exasperatedly and takes a step back from the brunette, instead falling on his bed and starts removing his shoes.

 

“You’re the one who started it. I can stop if you want.” Bucky offered and sat at the end of his bed, looking around the room at Steve's desk and pausing at the photo of his ma and him on the bedside table.

 

“Nah. It’s okay.” I like it. He thinks but doesn’t say. “Why does the house smell like lemon room freshener?” he asks in an attempt to change the subject and is instantly intrigued to see Bucky's cheeks turn red. He moves a little closer the blushing brunette and raises an eyebrow in question.

 

“Uhm… so remember Pietro? Well Pietro and I are going out now.” The brunette whispers and Steve's entire world stops spinning for a while. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out. He eventually stops trying and takes a deep breath, holds it and then tries again.

 

“What? I thought you…he was so upset that day. What happened?”

 

“I changed my mind. He just refused to leave my head and slowly wormed his way into my heart.” Bucky rushes out and Steve understands a touchy topic when he hears one. He wants to know more, needs to, but he keeps his curiosity under wraps and instead tries to shrug the topic out of the way.

 

“Oh, poetic.” He deadpans and it gets a sigh out of the alpha. He kicks off his shoes and is starting on his socks when Bucky speaks again.

 

“Shut it, Rogers and tell me why the billionaire, who is a friend of yours and clearly close because he is the one who suggested your name to his father, thinks we are madly in love spouses?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he grips back immediately and gets up from the bed to put his socks in the laundry basket. He doesn’t get till there before Bucky's voice calls him back or rather calls him out.

 

“Ah, but you have to. It affects the both of us and you know it.” The brunette counters.

 

Steve thinks back to how Bucky avoided discussing Pietro, how he didn’t give a believable reason for their sudden relationship and is overcome by a desire to point out the hypocrisy of Bucky's statement. But he doesn’t. Bucky's doing so much for him today. On a day he got a boyfriend, he's here playing pretend with Steve instead of going on a date or hanging out with said boyfriend. Bucky let him come into his house, gave him a home, gave him a friendship he sorely needed and has been nothing but sweet and supportive all the time he has known him. He doesn’t want to make Bucky feel like an asshole for asking, so he doesn’t.

 

The fact that he also desperately wants to share, just to ease one burden off himself, doesn’t help the matter in the slightest. 

 

“I used to really like Tony, like almost falling in love sort of way, but I never told him. Everybody in the office knew and thought we were actually together, considering how close we were. But one day, he came in and announced that he and Pepper, that’s his dad’s secretary, were officially dating. Instead of clapping and applauding they all turned to look at me, some concerned, some shocked, some snickering. I couldn’t take their looks and I bolted out of there. It was somewhere between the stunned silence and bolting that Tony figured out the truth.”

 

He doesn’t mention coming home to a message from his father that his mother was on her deathbed. Doesn’t mention the fact that after two more abortions after Steve, at the age that she was at, Sarah had become too weak to last anymore. Doesn’t mention the fact that the doctor had told him to start preparing for his mother’s funeral. Doesn’t mention the fact that he took time off from the office to tend to his mother and to make sure he was there for her last breath.

 

It’s God’s grace that she made it through, but Steve, afraid to leave her after that, had never gone back to the office. But now, married to a stranger, he's left his mom alone again, but safe, boldened by his father’s promise…

 

 “I sent in an application to work from home then to avoid humiliation and haven’t been to the office yet. That was about a year and a half back and I… I just didn’t want to admit in front of him that I was still single, I guess.” And unlovable, he doesn’t add, “I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Buck, I didn’t know he would tag home.”

 

Bucky hears his story out with utmost patience, before moving to sit beside him and put a comforting arm on  his shoulder. He presses gently, almost a massage and starts talking only when Steve's come down from the emotional pain of talking about his past.

 

“Don’t apologise, Steve. Never apologise for something like this. I'm happy to play pretend with you. You're an amazing husband and friend, and I'm glad to have had the pleasure of knowing both sides of you. You're not alone, nor single. I've known you less than a week and I might be a little obsessed with you. This friendship means a lot to me, Steve, and so do you. You're not alone, you've no reason to be ashamed. You just haven’t found the right person. But don’t worry, apple pie, your darling husband is here and he’ll help you.” He says and loops the arm around Steve to give him a half hug. Steve basks in the hug for a moment before pulling back and looking Bucky in the eye, his shoulders sagging a bit from some unknown relief sharing his story brought him.

 

“You weren’t gonna force the story out of me, were you?” he questions softly, fully knowing the answer now that he looks into Bucky's kind, grey eyes.

 

“Nah. But you looked like you wanted to talk, just needed a little push. That’s what I did.”

 

“You're a great husband, tarts.” He adds the nickname at the end only to cover up the raw emotion those words bring up in him. Bucky is a great husband and Pietro is gonna be a lucky guy someday. Steve doesn’t know what his future holds for him anymore, where he’ll go after his divorce, how much he’ll miss Bucky and his home and what will happen to his mother. There are too many things to be considered and he knows now is not the time for it, not with Tony downstairs and Bucky beside him, offering comfort. So he deflects, uses something he knows will catch Bucky’s attention and draw the conversation away from their lives for a while. 

 

“Tarts? That’s just lazy man.”

 

“I don’t know, it suits you.” Steve shrugs and Bucky shoves him lightly, full lips pulled in to  pout and shoulders drooping in mock-indignation.

 

“Whatever. Let’s go before he thinks we’re busy getting busy.” He turns away from Steve childishly and Steve can’t help the bark of laughter that leaves him.

 

“You're. The. Worst.” He says in between bouts of laughter and stops to see Bucky looking at him with a strange look in his eyes, almost a challenge or a nefarious idea.

 

 “I know, chocolate ice cream. But you can’t exchange me now, you're stuck with me.”

 

He doesn’t say how he wouldn’t exchange Bucky for anybody else, because he's starting to realise the alpha is perfect. He doesn’t say how that’s exactly what he is afraid of, of having to lose Bucky in an exchange with Pietro. He doesn’t say how attached he is not only to the idea of a home, but a home with Bucky.

(*)

 

Dinner is nothing special, just the Chinese food Steve had bought from the restaurant and a chicken roast Bucky had already prepared for dinner. He kept glancing at the alpha and beta at the table and how they both seemed too much at ease in the silence. Steve for his part was getting fidgety and anxious and he just wanted to break the silence somehow.

 

He was beyond glad when Tony put down his fork and looked at the two of them, question ready at the tip of his tongue.

 

“So, how long have you guys been together for?”

 

And just like that Steve's incessant need for words died. They had not rehearsed this, had not even thought about the lies that they had to tell. H willed his tied tongue to say something, anything, but the words froze inside his throat. He stared blankly at his friend and dropped his fork on to the plate with a very noisy clutter.  

 

“Uhh…” he began and noticed Bucky looking at him from the corner of his eye. He gulped after a small pause and scrambled his brain to find his voice again.

 

“About an year and two months. Got married six days ago.” Bucky answers fluently and sits back in his chair after closing his plate and dropping the napkin on to the table. He pulls Steve's chair closer to his own and throws an arm around the back of his chair. Steve turned to look at him gratefully and Bucky gave the back of his neck a reassuring squeeze, the softest smile grazing his lips.

 

“You got married after just an year of dating? Don’t you think that’s too soon?” Tony questioned incredulously and Steve almost groaned out loud at inquisitiveness of the brunette. He knows why Bucky said a year and some, given his history with Tony, but that doesn’t mean it’ll make this lie any more believable! Tony knows Steve, knows his inhibitions, his concerns, knows Steve will never get married to someone he has only known for a year. He fumbles for an answer again but is saved by Bucky again, his voice velvety smooth and too clear to be a lie.  

 

“Not if you know you’ve found the right person. Steve's so amazing and I didn’t want to give anyone anymore time to figure that out and steal him. So I put a ring on it.” he shrugged and smirked when Tony grinned at his answer, as Steve blushed fifty shades of red.

 

Steve sighed inwardly and thanked heavens for the silence that returned at the table. But it didn’t last any longer than two minutes before Tony spoke again, his voice suddenly a lot more genuine curiosity than nosy inquisitiveness.

 

“How did you know he’s the right person?”

 

“I called him a silly nickname and he retaliated with a worse one. He doesn’t take bullshit from anyone including me and he’s just different. He's got a fight in his eyes that I really like. You just know it when you see them, I guess.” Bucky answered again and Steve is hit by the realisation that this is exactly what happened during the phone call. Though Steve was the one to start with the nicknames, Bucky was the one who made it a joke and Steve had retaliated immediately. He smiles at the memory of that interaction and lifts his hand to intertwine it with the one at the back of his chair. If he can’t play along with words, his actions are gonna speak for him.  Bucky turns to look at him and gives him a small smile that he immediately returns before they both turn towards Tony again.

 

“Who proposed?”

 

“He did. Gave a sappy speech and all. It was super cheesy.” Bucky answers pointing to Steve with his free hand and nudges his shoulder with his own playfully. The blonde chuckles along with the brunette and turns to see Tony looking at them almost sceptically but still hopefully.

 

“The alpha wasn’t the one to propose?” he questions after a small pause and indignation rises in Steve's being. He's been at the beck and call of sexism and gender biases his whole life. He's been discriminated against for being an omega by his father, his school, his work places and his colleagues. But he never thought it would happen at the hands of a friend, that too somebody who would understand what it is like to be pushed over because you are not an alpha.

 

Before he can reply, Bucky's free hand comes to intertwine with his own and the alpha gives him a reassuring squeeze. From their proximity, Steve can smell the soothing scent of Bucky's scent and he grumpily calms to let the brunette speak. 

 

“We did not go into this relationship with the alpha-omega stereotypes. We are not an alpha and an omega when we are together, we’re just Steve and Bucky. I'm glad he proposed because I couldn’t have done it any better.”

 

“I…Do you think Pepper’s the right person for me?” Tony questions and suddenly all of Tony’s questions and curiosity make sense. Steve jerks out of his seat at the realisation, barely sitting on the edge of the seat in his excitement and lets go of Bucky’s hands in the process.

 

“Tony…are you…uh…” he asks breathlessly but Tony finishes his sentence before he can.

 

“Proposing? Yeah. Been thinking about it for weeks and I don’t know. I think she’s the one for me, Steve. She doesn’t take my bullshit even though I technically own the company, she’s competent and smart, brilliant at what she does and she can match me wit to wit. She sees…she sees me…you know what I mean?”

 

“Yeah. She sees Tony, the nerd, and not Tony stark, the billionaire.” Bucky replies immediately and nods along with what Tony says. Steve spares a moment to look at Bucky's face, the absolute understanding written in his eyes and turns back to look at Tony again.

 

 He thinks back to what little he has seen of the two of them together and agrees with what Tony said. Pepper has never once treated Tony like the boss’ son or even as a billionaire himself. She treats him like an equal, reprimanding when necessary and complimenting when required, never once pushing for too much or settling for too less. Though he doesn’t believe in the concept, he knows she’s the Ying to Tony’s Yang.

 

And he's happy for them, really happy. Whatever he had for Tony is long gone and he can finally admit with a smile that Pepper is the best thing that could’ve happened to Tony.

 

“Yeah. Exactly.” Tony agrees.

 

“Seems like she’s the one for you. Go for it, Tony, she makes you happy.” Steve adds and Tony turns to him with a beaming smile. The room overflows with the scent of three happy people and the sweetness sticks to Steve's face and heart. He extends his arm for Tony to shake and leans across the table to give him a small hug. Tony thumps his back and sits down with a chuckle, eyes too glossy to be dry and smile wobbly.

 

“She does. What about you, Buckaroo? You think I should go down on my knees for her?” he asks with a hoarse sound and Bucky leans forward in his chair. He drops his voice to a whisper and leans in almost conspiratorially, an imitation of Tony’s earlier gesture and smiles at him.   

 

“From what I heard, you're already on your knees, Tony, only missing the ring.” Tony chuckles at that and Steve can’t help but join in at his infectious laughter. Bucky joins in after a while and together the three of them spend a little more time indulging in their merriment.

 

“Thank you, guys.” Tony says after he calms down for a bit .“I'm going to do it tomorrow. No more chickening out.” He states with conviction, his scent flaring with the fire in his eyes.

 

“That’s the spirit.” Bucky cheers.

 

“Go for it, Tony.” Steve gives him twin thumbs up.

 

“You guys are invited to my wedding. If I have my way, it’s gonna be soon, so be prepared.” Tony warns and wags a finger at them threateningly. Steve laughs and nods at the brunette, while Bucky stands to wrap his arms around the beta.

 

“There's nowhere else we’d like to be.” He thumps Tony’s back and steps back to stand near Steve, face still split open in a grin and one arm around Steve's back. Steve leans into the touch and turns his head to whisper in Bucky's ear.

 

 

“Thank you. For all that…”

 

“You're welcome, Steve. Anytime. I promised you I’d be the best fake-real husband right? Gotta live up to my word.” The alpha whispers back and Steve can feel rather than hear the smile in his voice. He huffs a laugh under his breath and retorts cheekily, his voice a mere puff of breath at the alpha’s ear.

 

“You're doing splendidly. The best.”

 

“Wow you guys really can’t stay away from each other, huh? Cute and gross.” Tony breaks the moment between them and Steve annoyingly turns to glare at the brunette.

 

“Shut up, Tony.”  Bucky laughs from beside him along with Tony and Steve knows it’s one of the best moments of his life: his friends, a stomach full of food, laughter in the air and a friendly hand at his back.

 

(*)

 

They saw Tony off an hour after dinner. He hugged them goodbye, a very non-Tony thing to do, and then exchanged some words with Bucky that sounded awfully similar to you’re good for him. Take care of him. After the beta’s departure Steve and Bucky retired to the kitchen.

 

The alpha washed the dishes while Steve dried them. The two worked in companionable silence but Steve could not silence the voices in his head. He knew it had been too good to last, nothing good in his life ever lasted long, but he had started hoping this would. He glanced sideways at Bucky multiple times, his smiling features and dancing eyes and couldn’t help the feeling of lose. He was losing the best guy he had ever met in his life, the guy who gave him a home when he needed it, a friend when he had no one, confidence when he was immersed in self-pity and  a companionship when his shadow had been his only comrade.

 

He was still staring at Bucky when the brunette turned his head and met his gaze. He held the brunette’s gaze for a while before shaking his head and dropping his eyes.

 

“I-I’m happy for you, Bucky. Pietro is a good guy and you seem happy too.” he finished wiping the plate and put it down, already reaching for another and starting the act all over again.

 

“Thank you. I do feel quite content, like life’s complete.” Bucky replied and Steve didn’t need to turn to see the smile he was sporting. He sighed deeply and let the plate almost fall from his hands as he closed his eyes in utter exhaustion.

 

“That’s good. I'm happy for you.”

 

“You already said that…Steve? What’s wrong?” strong hands took the plate from his fingers and turned him around so he was leaning on the counter. Steve placed his shaking hands on to the granite surface and lifted his eyes to look into worried grey ones.

 

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” He shrugged but he knew the lie had fallen flat. He moved to turn around but the alpha’s hands landed next to his on the counter, boxing him in and not giving him any place to turn away to. He lifted his head angrily, his entire body shaking in an attempt to hold in the tears he's been fighting for some time now and swats at the hands blocking his way. Bucky removes his hands, but doesn’t move away from Steve, instead looking at him in a concerned manner and turning anxious grey eyes at him.

 

“Okay…Just…I'm always there for you, okay? Anytime you wanna talk to me about something, I'm always there.” He whispers softly and turns on his heel, moving away from  Steve and taking a part of his heart with him.

 

In that moment the young omega can’t help but think of how it’s like this that they were always suppose to end. Barely a week in, barely some friendly words spoken, barely a few meals had together and their friendship was already over. Bucky was walking away, leaving Steve in the softly lit kitchen that he can’t call his own and giving him space that he can’t bear to have from Bucky now. He knows this is the end, that Bucky will ask him to leave and the thought pains him, hurts in ways his father’s disregard or Tony’s rejection never did.

 

He can’t let Bucky leave with that last word.

 

“Hmm…Not for long.”

 

“What do you mean?” the alpha turns slowly and Steve can see the gears turn in his head. He lifts his head defiantly and stared down the tall alpha, hands fisted at his sides and scent screaming at the alpha in pain and abandonment.

 

“Now…now that you’ve found Pietro, guess we’re getting that divorce, huh?” he wants to spit the words out but at the thought of that divorce drains the fight out of him. All that comes out is a pathetic whisper, a plea to be misheard, a plea to be wrong.

 

“Steve…Steve look at me.” Bucky strides towards him and lifts his head with a palm under his chin. Steve refuses to meet the understanding, worried gaze of the alpha, keeping his eyes down and body in one tight line. “We’re…I…I was a mess before you came. I was lonely and this house was too big. I know you were the same, lonely and living in a too big apartment. You’ve made this place home, Stevie. You came in that door and brought something with you, something that makes this house a home and soothes an ache in me I didn’t know I had. The circumstance of our meeting was less than ideal, but that circumstance gave me a very good friend and I'm not gonna turn my back on him just because somebody else came through. Just because Pietro came to my life, doesn’t mean you have to leave. You're my friend, Stevie, and I'm pleading with you to stay. Please stay, unless you want to leave. Do you?” he pauses, then continues in a too soft whisper, “Do you want the divorce?”

 

And Steve's entire world comes crashing down. He can’t believe what he's hearing, the plea in Bucky’s voice, the request to not leave, to not request the end of their friendship, to not put an expiry date to their companionship. Steve lifts his teary eyes to meet Bucky's, sees friendly eyes meet his own and falls into Bucky's body, just trusting the brunette to catch him, to comfort him.

 

And he does. The alpha holds Steve close, keeps his hands wrapped around Steve midriff and cocoons him in the safety he didn’t know he needed. Steve talks a shaky breath, leaves it in a breathy sigh and wraps his own bony hands around the brunette.

 

When he talks, his voice is nothing above a whisper.

 

“No…this is home to me too. It happened too quickly, too suddenly, but it happened. This became home.” You became home. “I don’t want to leave.”

 

“Then stay.” The reply comes promptly and Steve shakes his head immediately.

 

“But the agreement, Buck? We agreed to separate…” he argues uselessly, hardly wanting Bucky to see the logic in his words, to acquiesce with him. 

 

“Haven’t we already broken almost all other things? You didn’t warn me a day in advance that Tony was coming and I didn’t tell you Natasha and Clint were going to crash at midnight. I think the agreement’s been long broken.” The alpha counters immediately and Steve finds himself nodding along, an immense relief washing over him. He knows he needs to step out of the embrace but he decides to take another moment to himself. He breathes deeply and starts when the soft smell of earth, fresh and green, hits his nose. Pietro.

 

Steve immediately takes a step back from the alpha, tries to stem the selfish part of his brain that wants to crawl back into the embrace and looks Bucky in the eye as he questions. 

 

“What happens when Pietro stays the night?”

 

“He stays in my room, not the guest room.” Bucky answers immediately and Steve shakes his head in frustration. He takes a step forward and gestures wildly with his hands.

 

“No. you know, when you guys…”

 

“We what?” the brunette questions again and Steve pulls his hair out of frustration, spinning in an aborted circle and stopping with his back to Bucky.

 

“You know…you want to…”

 

“I've no idea what you're talking about.” This time he hears the smile in Bucky’s voice and spins to face him with a threatening finger and a small smile on his face. He wags the finger at the brunette disapprovingly and watches a dazzling smile break out on the alpha’s face.

 

“Oh you fucking asshole. I'm talking about when you wanna have sex. Isn’t it gonna be weird with me in the house. You guys will probably need your space.”

 

“Did you just call me, an alpha, a fucking asshole? The insolence!” Bucky's splays a hand on his chest and exclaims frantically but Steve ignores his theatrics in favour of his answer, he raises an unamused eyebrow at the brunette and watches him slowly deflate back to seriousness.

 

“That’s simple. Pietro and I are not gonna have sex.” Bucky answers simply and Steve's mind runs a hundred miles an hour. He takes a step towards Bucky, his eyes wide and scent confused and the brunette just watches him with a blank face.

 

“What? Why? Is it-”

 

“It is because I'm a married man, Stevie and I'm not gonna disrespect my husband like that.” He states calmly and side steps Steve to put the dishes away. Steve stands frozen in his place for a moment before finally turning around and addressing the bomb Bucky just dropped on him.

 

“Buck…you don’t have to. I…I don’t mind.” He begins but Bucky interrupts him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder and  a comforting smile.

 

“No, Steve. That’d be a pretty shitty thing to do. I'm already committing adultery and I can’t disrespect you more or take advantage like that. You deserve better than your husband, fake or real, full on mounting somebody while being married to you. You're gonna be treated with respect.”

 

“Thank you. That’s…”

 

“No need to thank me, Stevie, especially after I fucked up. I kissed Pietro while also being married, that’s a shitty thing to do as well.”

 

“It’s okay, Buck. We already spoke about them earlier. We’re both open to finding others and now that you’ve found somebody there’s no reason you shouldn’t be affectionate with them. I really don’t mind.” H tries again but he knows from the look on Bucky's face that this conversation is over. He’s not gonna take Steve's objections into consideration and Steve's beyond relieved about it too.

 

“Thank you, you're the best. Where else am I gonna find a husband I can manipulate into watching Grace and Frankie with me?” the brunette questions with  a mischievous smile and Steve rises to the challenge immediately.

 

“I'm the one manipulating you. I pretended not to like it, so you decided to watch it to spite me. Dummy.” He laughs at Bucky and barely dodges the drying rag he throws at him.

 

“Steve Rogers, you diabolical piece of shit! I ought to divorce your ass.” He screams at him and Steve takes off running out of the kitchen with a smile. He stops at the couch, sticks his tongue out at the brunette and falls on to the couch.

 

“As if you could. You enjoy my company too much.”

 

“Yeah, I probably do.” The brunette agrees and takes a seat next to Steve, their task of doing the dishes forgotten mid-way through as they both sit and contemplate the events of a too long day. It’s quiet for a very long time before Steve speaks up.

 

“Me too.”

 

Bucky smiles at him and gets up to switch on the TV and queue up Netflix on it. They both settle down to watch Grace and Frankie and it’s midway through the episode that something comes to Steve’s mind.

 

 “So…Stevie, huh?” he asks with a smirk and elbows the brunette sitting beside him.

 

“Buck, huh?” Bucky questions back in the same tone and they both smile at each other for a while before Steve asks quietly.

 

“You mind?”

 

“Nah. Do you?”

 

“Nope, as long as Sam doesn’t hear about it. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

 

“Deal.” They shake hands on it and settle down to watch the rest of the episode. It’s not as happening as their day had been but it’s not boring either and Steve can’t help but think that this is how he wants to spend every night of his life.

(*)

 

 

 

 

 

  

Notes:

This is the last update for the next two weeks. I'm sorry but exams :(
Wish me all the best...

Chapter 11: A New Day

Summary:

Steve has too many conversations in one day

Notes:

I must warn you guys, it is a very short chapter and is pretty much only a filler. I just wanted to set the ball rolling on my writing because after a two week break and Endgame, my writing and I are all over the place. Enjoy...

20^th March 2020

 

"You guys are where?" Steve did a spit take without meaning to and coughed when it went down the wrong pipe. He put down his paintbrush and frowned at the stark black line going down his beautiful skyline. He wiped his hands on a rag and took over the phone that was cradled between his shoulder and neck.

 

"Grand Canyon, Steve. your dad thought it would be romantic to visit this stretch of nothingness. He's hopeless at romance." He smiled at his mother's exasperated tone and tried to picture his parents at the monument. He almost laughed at the image of a grumpy Sarah and an over the top Joseph. Reining in his laughter at the last second, he tried to keep his tone serious as he spoke to his mom.

 

"Uh, first of all, that's not true. The Grand Canyon is a beautiful treasure that we ought to, well, treasure. Second, any man who takes you to the Grand Canyon is a hopeless romantic and not hopeless at romance."

 

He sat down as he said so, past images of his father's cruelty flashing in his head as he tried hard to forget them and imagine this romantic version of a man, he had never thought had a kind bone in his body. It was painful to think that just by being born the way he did; Steve had robbed his mother all this happiness.

 

 

"Okay, I'll make sure he knows his son approves of his romantic ideas while his mom drinks her 8th bottle of water in half those hours."

 

"C' mon Rogers, you're gonna be okay. I'm starting to see why Buck says I have a dramatic streak in my blood. I get it from you." Steve teased his mother and could almost see her smile through the phone. He laughed softly as she did the same and switched the phone to his other hand. He walked around his room, collecting all the clothes strewn around the floor and putting it in his overflowing laundry basket.

 

He frowned when his mother was quiet for a while and almost sighed out loud when she spoke, her voice soft and tone cautiously hopeful.

 

"Buck, huh? James to Bucky to Buck. Is there something you should be telling your mother, Steven? Something your mommy needs to know?"

 

He felt bad about the hope in her voice, the optimism that she exuded. He didn't like disappointing his mother, did not enjoy hearing her voice sink with it. He shrugged casually and replied nonchalantly.

 

"Nope. Just friends."

 

"Sure, if you say so. I'm just glad you're happy, Stevie. I was really worried about you, honey. Especially after that night…you were so scared."

 

"I know, ma. But you were right. Bucky's amazing, a really good guy."

 

"I'm glad you're happy, Stevie. God knows you deserve that after all these years with your father." Her voice dropped in regret and Steve felt the pain she felt. he couldn't bear the thought of her being upset on her trip to Arizona, of her ever being upset. He hadn't meant to steer the conversation in this direction at all, but as always had inadvertently caused her pain and guilt as always.

 

"I…I'm glad you're happy too, ma. I'm surprised dad changed the way he did, but I'm glad he did. You deserve every happiness in the world, ma, each and everyone."

 

"Not at the cost of your life, honey." she berated softly, voice resigned and quiet as it hurt Steve in the worst way possible. He was tired of this conversation, of the words and apologies traversing between them with the occasional rephrasing.

 

She hasn't cost him anything, much less his life. She hadn't asked him to do what he did neither had she asked him to accept his father's proposal. Whatever Steve had done to get to this stage in his life, married to a man whom he doesn't love and who doesn't love him, he has done it to himself.

 

And even that hasn't cost him his life. In fact, being married to Bucky is the most he has lived in his life.

 

"It didn't cost me anything, ma. Bucky's great, I'm happy and you're happy. Isn't it a win-win for everybody? Don't feel guilty about me and enjoy your time with dad. I'm dying to visit but the two of you are out seeing the world apparently."

 

In the past ten-fifteen days, Sarah and Joseph had been on more dates than Steve had ever been on. They'd spent their nights out on the beach and days wrapped around each other. His mother could not stop gushing about it every time he had called. As happy as he was to hear that and as elated to hear his mother sound so happy, it had meant he was unable to visit his mother. They were never there at home anymore and Steve was missing his mother terribly.

 

 

"Yeah. Win-win." She murmured in a daze and suddenly added in a hurry, "Steve, I have to go. Uhm…it's an emergency." He arched an eyebrow in surprise at the urgency in her tone before catching up on what was apparently going on. He smiled softly to himself and then cringed at the image that popped into his head.

 

"Yeah, please don't elaborate further on that emergency. I'd hate to bleach my ears."

 

"Steven…" his mother's stern tone came through and Steve cringed even states away.

 

"Sorry, sorry. Have fun, ma. Bye." he apologized and then added in a cheery voice, his voice breaking into a high-pitched squeal at the end.

 

"Bye and take care, honey. I love you." he could hear Sarah laugh at the enthusiasm in his bye and he smiled softly at the laughter he was longing to see in person. God! he was missing his mother terribly.

 

"Love you too," he added in a heartfelt whisper and hung up. the day had started well and he was looking forward to the rest.

 

(*)

Steve yawned as his coffee slowly percolated down his cup, the heavenly smell of the brew making Steve sigh in anticipation and at least attempt to open his eyes. He blinked away any remaining sleep as he lifted his cup and turned towards the dining table from where the soft pitter-patter of bare feet hit his ears.

 

"Good morning, Pietro." He smiles softly at the sleep rumbled look on the otherwise well put together blonde and shakes his head when he notices that Pietro is in nothing but his boxers and a shirt that's clearly Bucky's given how big it is on his lean, thin body. He stifles a laugh into his coffee and turns to prepare another cup for Pietro.

He's hardly surprised to see the young blonde out of bed so early, fully aware of Bucky's habit to go running at ass o' clock in the morning, but it still surprises him that he came downstairs instead of going back to sleep. The least Steve can do for a fellow early morning zombie, is make him a cup of heaven.

 

"Oh. Good morning, Steve. I wasn't expecting to see you. Sorry." Pietro looks down at himself when he sees Steve smile and offers him an apologetic smile in return. It's a cute smile, a smile Steve is willing to bet floors Bucky, but the words sting in an unexpected manner.

 

Steve shouldn't have come down, seeing as he knew that Pietro stayed the night. He places his cup on the counter and faces Pietro without the cover of his cup.

 

"No, I'm sorry. I knew you were staying the night and-" he begins but Pietro cuts him off immediately.

 

"Oh, no, no. that's not what I was talking about. It's just that Bucky said you hate mornings and would certainly not be up so early. That's why I…came down like this. So, I'm sorry." He picks up Steve's cup from the counter and hands it to the blonde before picking up his own and taking a long sip from it despite its scalding temperature.

 

"I think we both shouldn't apologize since it sounds an awful lot like Bucky's fault. He gave you inaccurate information and embarrassed you. He should apologize." Steve smiles at the blonde who stands beside him and leans onto the counter and watches a mischievous smile spread over his pale features.

 

"Ooo, I like the way you think. Let him apologize." Pietro grins wickedly and Steve can't help the laughter that escapes him at the look of such evil on such an innocent face. They both spend some time indulging in their malicious idea of making the alpha apologize for the confusion and the subsequent mirth before Steve places his empty cup down in the sink and turns sideways to face Pietro, naked vulnerability concealed beneath years of practiced emotional masking.

 

"Pietro, I feel like I should apologize for a host of other things though. You guys like each other and are a couple, but, because of me you can't even…I'm really sorry. If you want, I could leave for a night or a couple of days or something."

 

"Steve…I should be the one apologizing. I'm dating your husband, irrespective of whatever agreement or deal you guys have. As if the fact that you're allowing that is not enough, you are offering to leave? Dude, first of all, no. And second, you're an angel. Bucky is lucky to have you in his life as his husband." Whatever vulnerability Steve attempted to cover, shines through on Pietro's face. Steve can see that he means every word of what he says, can see the gratitude and awe sparkle in his eyes.

 

It's too much to look into his pale eyes and see a variety of emotions Steve has spent years convincing himself he doesn't deserve. Seeing the respect, understanding and genuine affection for Steve in Pietro's eyes is a reality check, a check that tells him he is finally not alone, he has people who see him for him now.

 

"And he's lucky to have you as his boyfriend too, Pietro. You're great. You're being so understanding of what he is going through and that takes a man of a big heart and great empathy." He replies, hoping his eyes are conveying all that Pietro's eyes did. He hopes Pietro knows he is not just returning a dishonest compliment, that he means every word, every sentiment in that sentence.

 

"I'm not all that great, Steve. If I'm honest with you, first I was pissed at the no-sex thing. I couldn't understand why he would take a stand like that. But then when I sat down and thought about it, it relieved me. He cares so much about you, your feelings, your sensibilities, but he's only known you for like less than two weeks. He has no reason to do so, considering the circumstances of your marriage. But he does. He cares for you, considers you his friend and has adopted you into his family. And those are great things to do and things you want the man you love to do. He's a good guy and I'm not gonna stop him from being one. And I know this is gonna sound bad, but if he can care so much about somebody he barely knows, somebody who entered his life without his permission, be so respectful of somebody he doesn't love, then it's safe to say he's gonna treat me well too. I don't mean any disrespect to you, Steve, but I hope you understand what I'm saying."

 

And Steve does understand. It's something he has also found himself wondering about a few times in the past week. Bucky's has been nothing but respectful and understanding of Steve's needs and space. From making dinner, to morning walks to high branded coffee, Bucky has known and adopted Steve's ways and habit into his life without a hitch. Instead of making Steve feel like he was a stranger staying in a stranger's house, Bucky's has made him feel at home here. Instead of treating him as an omega, Bucky had treated him as a companion, as a friend, as an equal.

 

Steve totally understands when Pietro says Bucky is a good guy.

 

"He is a great guy, Pietro, you're a lucky guy. But, you're also no less, like I said. Nobody would've been this understanding, but here you are, having a conversation with the guy who's essentially cockblocking you and calling him an angel." He only adds that last sentence to break the heavy tension that he feels in the room with all the serious talk they are having. The joke works a bit, Pietro laughs for a moment before composing himself and replying in a solemn tone.

 

"That's because I don't lie."

 

"Okay. Pancakes?" Steve questions and that ends the tension in the kitchen as Pietro's face splits open into a beaming smile. He launches himself at Steve, arms around the blonde's skinny frame and hair buried somewhere very close to Steve's eyes. He hugs (squeezes) the life out of Steve and steps back to flash a dazzling smile at the blonde.

 

"Oh my god! You are an angel, Steve."

 

"So, what do you two have planned for today. Bucky was very excited when he told me he took the day off to take you somewhere." Steve changes the topic as he tries to account for all the broken bones in his body. He pulls down the pancake batter from the shelf and goes about mixing when Pietro starts talking, his tone a little down and lacking all prior excitement.

 

"He was, wasn't he. Hmm."

 

The silence lights a fire through Steve's core. He glances back to see Pietro's face pulled down in a frown and it makes him worry. Is there a problem with their relationship? Is he gonna have to witness another relationship collapse around him? Was he responsible for the break of this one too?

 

"You don't seem happy about it, Pietro. Everything okay?" he tries to keep his panic off his tone and scent, and it seems to work when Pietro doesn't lift his head from his intense scrutiny of the floor.

 

"I was the one who suggested we go to Smithsonian because he couldn't stop talking about it and it was worth it to see his face light up. But then I remembered that I have an essay pending that needs to be submitted in two days and today is the only day off I have to do research for that. I don't wanna let him down."

 

As soon as he finishes speaking, Steve lets out a sigh of relief. He laughs internally at the triviality of the problem and pats Pietro's shoulder in comfort.

 

"I'm sure he'll understand, Pietro. As you said, he's a great guy. Of course, he'll understand."

 

"You said he's a great guy." Pietro's counters immediately and Steve sees a ghost of a smile breaking through the frown. He mock-glares and takes his hand back, feigning nonchalance as he states.

 

"I think we both agreed on that. But the point is, he'll understand."

 

"Aww, you guys think I'm great? Thanks, boys, you sure know how to make a man feel special." Bucky enters the kitchen with a shit eating grin and both Pietro and Steve jump a mile in the air.

 

"Jesus Christ, you scared us, Buck." Steve placed a hand on his racing chest and glared at the brunette while Pietro threw a nearby rug at him and folded his arms across his chest with a scowl.

 

"Don't do that again or you're sleeping on the couch." He admonished and Steve saw Bucky pull of the cutest pout in history at the threat. As it unsurprisingly works its magic and Pietro smiles again, he enters the kitchen and takes a seat on the counter next to Pietro.

 

"Sorry, sorry. But back to the topic of contention, Steve's right Piet. You should've just told me. Your education is the most important thing and a simple thing like a date is not gonna come before that. You and I can go on a date whenever we want, but your studies, they have a fixed time." He says as he swings his legs and dips a finger in the batter to taste it. Steve bats his hands away and glares at him, but at the return of the pout, he gives in to his antics.

 

"You were excited about this. I don't want you feeling bad."

 

"I would've felt a thousand times worse had you flunked the essay because of me. The Smithsonian is not going anywhere, Piet. We can always go later."  Bucky turns towards his boyfriend and pulls him to stand between his legs. Pietro goes without a complaint but Steve can still see that he feels bad about not keeping his promise to Bucky. Bucky must see it too because he leans down to place a soft kiss to Pietro's forehead and murmurs something that has Pietro smiling up at him like he hung the moons and stars. It is quiet for a while in the kitchen as the pancakes sizzle on the pan and the three of them stand around it in comfortable silence.

 

"Or you could go with Steve. He's into this stuff." Pietro remarks suddenly and it breaks the silence that had set upon them. Steve looks between Bucky and Pietro but both their gazes are locked on each other.

 

"How do you know?" Steve and Bucky ask at the same time and Pietro turns to Steve to answer the question, flailing his arms around in excitement and obvious pride at his own brilliant idea.

 

"Your face lit up when I said its name. and I have a feeling you both would enjoy it way more than I will."

 

"You sure, Pietro?" Bucky asks uncertainly, casting a doubtful look towards Steve as well. Steve shrugs at him and Pietro nods enthusiastically.

 

"Yup."

 

"I'm game if you are, Stevie. You ready to go nerding?" the brunette asks him and Steve already knows his answer even before the pout makes its appearance.

 

"Born ready." Because he has nothing to lose.

Notes:

How excited are we about the Stucky not-date-date? I'm very excited!!!

If you guys wanna talk about Marvel, Stucky, endgame, this story or anything on your mind, I'm on tumblr under the username Apieceofurmind. Come say hi and lets talk about how S'd in the B we feel after endgame (you know what I am talking about)

Chapter 12: A Walk Down Memory Lane

Summary:

It is a date. But not really.

Notes:

I know I built some pretty strong expectations for this chapter, but, I did a poor job of it. Because I have never been on a date and I don't know what people do on them. And I am not the most romantic person alive, but I might be the least.

20th March 2020

 

It was a beautiful day and Steve was glad they were not spending it indoors. The sun shone brightly in a clear sky, the weather was perfect, neither too warm nor cold, and a soft breeze carried with it the smell of flowers and the earth.

 

The George Gustav Heye Centre, National Museum of the American Indian, was bustling with activity. There were a number of tourists in the mix, eager children and adults alike carrying brochures and phones, but the majority of the crowd was still made up by the American population. People clicked photos and selfies outside the building, some smiling, some smizing and Steve barely repressed his smile at a couple who decided this was the place to make cheeky faces. 

 

He looked around as they walked to the entrance while Bucky typed something into his phone rapidly. Steve ignored the brunette and the monotonous click of typing, and instead watched a number of people excitedly talk amongst themselves as they walked. He smiled at a blonde's excited gesticulations and another brunette's deep, frown laced sermons before he tried to recall what he had seen the last time he'd been here. He was hit with the images of the rich history of the Caribbean and its beautiful people; the Taino Exhibit, an absolute masterpiece. 

 

 

"Did you know they had an exhibit in 2009, that celebrated skateboards, graphic designs and film making? How cool is that? That was like the ‘in thing' those days, Stevie." Bucky's voice drew him away from the legacy of Native peoples throughout the Spanish-speaking Caribbean islands and their U.S. diasporas, and back to the footsteps of the museum.

 

He watches Bucky as he turns his phone screen to show Steve the official page of the museum and the omega smiles when he realises this is what Bucky had been doing for the past few minutes. He nods at what Bucky shows him and then takes the phone from him to open another tab and search. As soon as he finds what he is looking for, he turns the screen towards Bucky and lets the brunette read its contents before speaking.

 

 

"I don't think it's as cool as the Ancestral Connections exhibit, they have going on right now. Like isn't that what is worth putting up an exhibit for?" he questions. Bucky looks at him for a minute, eyes trained on baby blues but mind elsewhere. It's after a moment or two that he speaks, each word slow and dragged out like he is putting together a sentence he isn't sure makes sense.

 

"But the present instigates the future just like the past did the present. If we can celebrate somebody else's present, we can and should celebrate our own too, don't you think?" he smiles uncertainly and it forces Steve to stop and think about what the brunette said.

 

He realises two things: one that Bucky is smarter than he looks and the second that Bucky might be a nerd. He settles on admitting the second because he is a dick.

 

"You know what I think, Buck? I think you're a nerd, a big one." He smiles and Bucky huffs in return. 

 

"And you also seem to think you're funny. Ha. Ha." The alpha deadpans in return.

 

"Jerk. Though, there's nothing wrong with being a nerd. I like nerds." Steve pats his hand soothingly and Bucky raises his eyebrows in mock condescension.

 

"That's narcissism, punk, and it's generally frowned upon." He says seriously and Steve can't help but clock him in the arm playfully.

 

"Look who's being funny, Bucket Barnes."

 

"Look who's being a grumpy pants, Stove Rogers." Steve sticks his tongue out at Bucky and Bucky immediately starts making faces at him in return. Lost in the absolutely important thing they are doing; they completely forget where they are standing stand and continue trying to outdo the other till an elderly lady clears her throat next to them.

 

Steve jumps a little and immediately drops his hands from his ears, while Bucky straightens up and puts his hands in the pocket. Both men give the lady twin guilty smiles while she grins at them in amusement.

 

"You guys are cute. Make a fun couple." She compliments and Steve immediately moves opens his mouth to correct her. Before he can say anything, Bucky gives her a lopsided grin and puts his hand on Steve's shoulder.

 

"Thank you." He answers with sincere gratitude and the lady smiles at the two of them again, her eyes shining and expression soft.

 

"Have fun, boys." She waves to them as she steps back and the boys smile at her as she leaves.

 

"Thank you, ma'am."

 

"Have a good day." Steve's adds and she gives them a smile from over her shoulder.

 

 She is a good distance away when Steve turns to Bucky with an incredulous look and over the top gestures.

 

"She thought we were a couple. Why didn't you say anything?" he questions in a hurry and Bucky shrugs in return.

 

"Because it doesn't matter what she thinks, Steve. You know the truth, I know the truth, nobody else's comments matter."

 

"And you'd be okay with people assuming we're together?" Steve stares at him sceptically and Bucky shrugs again before turning sideways and looking at Steve with a knowing grin.

 

"I already told you, you're a catch. Now I think you're just fishing for compliments." He stated and started walking again. Steve jogged a little to catch up with him and shoved him with a shoulder.

 

"And I think you're a jerk."

 

"And I know you like me anyway." Bucky singsonged and gave Steve the same innocent grin he'd given the lady. Steve doesn't understand the way his heart does something funny at the sight, but he is so shocked by it that he forgets his retort.

 

And eventually does what he does best, he sticks his tongue out at Bucky again who starts laughing like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. And Steve's glad Bucky's not questioning Steve's acquiescence of his assumption, because Steve certainly is.

 

(*)

 

They enter the museum and immediately fall silent. Steve's walks into the grand hall and stops to read the different pamphlets that are kept at the entrance. He picks up the one for ‘Infinity of Nations' and is immediately overwhelmed by all the pieces he has been looking forward to seeing for years. He flips through the pamphlet quickly and then stops to read the instructions to the side.

 

"Why are you walking like that? So far away." Steve notices what Bucky is referring to when he notices the distance between them. Not much for two strangers, but definitely too much for them, especially considering how close they were mere minutes back.

 

Steve prepares himself to apologise, say something lame like he was interested in the pamphlets Bucky is not into but notices the sign at the last minute.

 

"So that I don't accidentally touch you." He retorts cheekily and doesn't even have to turn around to see Bucky's confused face. He smiles quietly to himself as he pretends to read the pamphlet and maliciously cheers when Bucky's happy-chocolate-scent turns slightly bitter with confusion and embarrassment.

 

"Is it about what she thought?" he asks quietly, his tone betraying the furrow between his eyebrows and the frown on his lips.

 

Steve turns to look at the alpha, eyes twinkling in mischief and mouth pulled into the most playful smile he can muster and points to the board placed next to the help desk.

 

Even in plain black letters, the message is very clear.

 

Don't touch the art.

 

"No, it says not to touch the art pieces." He watches the confusion lift from Bucky's face and a shy smile take its place. The brunette rolls his eyes at the blonde and gently shoves him away as a blush rises on his cheeks.

 

"Steve! I have a boyfriend. How could you?" he turns in an overdramatic manner and splays both hands on his chest, eyes comically wide and mouth open in a silent gasp. Steve shakes his head fondly, as always in awe of the man who could go from worried, confused and embarrassed to playful, cheery and comical in a second.

 

"A boyfriend! But I'm your husband." He whisper-shouts and mirrors Bucky's pose perfectly. Bucky immediately drops his hands, schools his expression to that of guilt and awkwardly pats Steve's arm, a sly look in eyes and a grin threatening to split open on his mouth.

 

"Well, in that case, flirt away." He graciously acquiesces and Steve can't help but laugh with him.

 

"What are you looking forward to?" Bucky questions once they've calmed down and started taking the trip seriously. Steve points towards the gallery and shows him the pamphlet he's been holding.

 

"The Infinity of Nations exhibit. They are showcasing some pieces of art I've been looking forward to seeing for years."

 

"Nerd!" Bucky says softly and Steve can't help the smile he gives the brunette.

 

"Shut up! What are you here for?" he questions, folding up his pamphlet and stuffing it in the back of his jeans.

 

"Patriot Nations. It's about the American Indian people who served in the US Army. It's gonna be good!" Bucky's grins excitedly and Steve can't help the way his scent soars to compliment Bucky's excited one. They walk together till the gallery showcasing the Patriot Nations and Steve lingers uncomfortably at the entrance.

 

"You gonna take long there?" he questions, hoping Bucky answers in the negative and they can at least go see a few pieces together.

 

He really wants to see the Infinity of Nations and he knows Bucky was looking forward to this exhibit, but so far, he had really enjoyed their time together and he doesn't want them to split. It's fun hanging out with Bucky, his dry sense of humour, sarcastic comments, cheeky retorts, and all-around cheerful persona. It's fun to tease him and being teased in return. It's fun to see him take an interest in something Steve suggests and it's fun to see what interests him.

 

Moreover, it's amazing to see Bucky's face light up when he sees something he enjoys and Steve is not sure why he doesn't want to miss that sight.

 

He raises expectant eyes to Bucky but the brunette is excitedly reading through the descriptions on his phone. 

 

"I might just stay overnight. Do you think the exhibits come alive like in night at the museum?" he turns to Steve and it's impossible to look away from the glow on his face and the spark in his eye. Steve chuckles at the man child and shakes his head, albeit a little regretfully.

 

"No, I don't think so, Buck and I don't think you should try to find out either."

 

"Well, then I'm going to stay will closing time, know all there is to know. Brave American Indians, here I come!" he announces and walks towards the first exhibit. Steve stalls behind for a second till Bucky stops and turns, raising quizzical eyes at Steve's abrupt halt. 

 

"Should we split up and go? It'll give us more time to see our exhibits." He suggests half-heartedly, having no interest in missing out Bucky's hilarious commentary or his childlike enthusiasm regarding the war facts. He loiters unsure for a second before looking at Bucky and is surprised to see Bucky walking back towards him.

 

"Nah… I think we should stick together. Don't want anybody trying to take my art home." He says and takes Steve's hand in his and rests it in the crook of his elbow. He starts walking back towards the exhibit and Steve walks behind him in a daze till the occurrence catches up with him.

 

"Your art?" he questions with an eyebrow arch and Bucky turns to look at him with a similar expression.

 

"I thought we established the fact that we were husbands?"

 

"Touché." Steve grins and Bucky retunes the action.

 

"Let's go, Stevie. We've got a lot to see."  He pulls on Steve's arm and Steve happily steps up beside him.

 

(*) 

They lost themselves in the exhibits, the magnificent Kayapo Krok-Krok-ti, a macaw-and-heron-feather ceremonial headdress, an apsaalooke robe illustrated with the warriors' exploits, an elaborately beaded Inuit Tuilli, a Mapuche kultrung, an ancient mortar and much more from around the world. They felt themselves travel back in time with the native Americans, with Hoarce Poolaw and his P-40 Warhawk, with the George Washington Peace Medal, in their honour dances welcoming home heroes and their eagle-feather war bonnets.

 

Time flew at the Smithsonian and the two men had the time of their lives by each other's sides. They skipped lunch, reluctant to waste time on lunch and miss valuable time and spent their day walking through time, space and place.

 

It was past 5 when they left the Centre and Steve could hardly stand with the hunger that threatened to dizzy him immediately. He kept quiet about it, but his wailing stomach soon gave him away to the alpha, who grinned at him and immediately stopped the car opposite a small café.

 

They ordered a sandwich each and a piece of pie, topped off with orange juice and fries. After the hearty snack, they decided to walk a little before going back home.

 

"Did you have fun?" Steve questioned after a while, his stomach full and heart content. He glanced at Bucky, only to see the brunette's head tipped skywards and content smile on his face.

 

"So much fun. I never thought I'd be into art like that, it's never appealed to me before." He confessed quietly and Steve was mesmerised by the bobbing of his Adam's apple. He averted his eyes guiltily and watched the general hustle and bustle of New York around him.

 

"Art is not for everyone. It's the prime example of ‘beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder', not every person appreciates every piece." He shrugged and was slightly caught off guard when Bucky's head snapped down suddenly and his gaze locked on Steve.

 

"What about your pieces, when do I get to see them?" he questioned with a small smile and genuine curiosity, but Steve just shook his head.

 

"Let's see, today is 20th, so…never." He rocked on his heels a little as he refused to meet Bucky's eye and disappointed expression. Bucky continued staring at the side of his face, but Steve refused to look back. Eventually, the brunette gave up with a sigh and kept walking by Steve's side.

 

"C' mon, Steve, why won't you show them to me? I know you're good." He pressed and Steve was the one sighing this time around. He huffed as he turned to look at the brunette and crossed his arms defensively.

 

"How would you know that?"

 

"Stark industries hired you and everybody knows they only hire the cream of the crop."

 

"Okay…but I don't want you to see them, they're very personal to me." He answered honestly and the brunette by his side didn't press for more.

 

"Okay. Can I at least see some that you've done for Stark?" he asked after a while and this finally got a smile out of Steve. The ones he had done for Stark Industries were public knowledge and he had no qualms about showing them to Bucky, though objectively he knew they weren't his best pieces.

 

"Of course." He nodded and it got a beaming smile out of the alpha. He grinned excitedly and suddenly stopped and spun around to look at Steve.

 

"And will you draw me?" he asked in all seriousness and Steve couldn't help the peal of laughter that escaped him. He shook his head in amusement and wiped his tears of merriment away as he answered.

 

"As long as you have all your clothes on and don't have a problem with sitting still." He again burst into a fit of laughter at the image of Bucky sitting on their couch, holding some ridiculous pose for Steve to draw him and this time it took more than a minute to calm him down, while Bucky watched on with a calculating smile and sparkling eyes.

 

"But Steve…" he whined playfully and Steve knew he was screwed, "nude modelling is the best."

 

"Fully clothed and still," Steve stated confidently, albeit between manly laughter (giggles), and it was totally worth seeing the smile break out on Bucky's face.

 

"Title of your sex tape."

 

"Excuse me?" Steve straightened immediately at that and glared at Bucky, his eyes squinting at what Bucky had said.

 

"You've not seen that show? You've not seen Brooklyn 99? This is unacceptable, no husband of mine can go without seeing B99." Bucky stated with authority and shook his head violently from side to side.

 

"Oh yeah? and how many husbands in total do you have?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, a smirk pulling at his lips and Bucky rolled his eyes.

 

"Ha. Ha. Funny. Hasn't even seen Brooklyn 99 and thinks he's some hot shit!"

 

Steve looked at the grumpy brunette and couldn't control the laughter that escaped him at the sight. He threw his head back and laughed, his belly shaking with laughter and eyes screwed shut. He could feel Bucky's gaze on the side of his face, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. He continued till tears rolled down the side of his face and his stomach hurt.

 

As his merriment subsided, he wiped away his tears and smiled at the pouting alpha. Though his mouth was downturned, his eyes shone and his chocolate scent soared in delight. His own scent was no less elated about their day, as it perfectly complimented the chocolate in its sweetness.

 

Their moment was however short-lived, as Steve caught the sight of the man walking on the opposite side. His entire body seized in shock and his mouth fell open. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, didn't want to.

 

It couldn't be.

 

It couldn't be, his entire being screamed.

 

It couldn't be, his scent wailed.

 

He was subconsciously aware that Bucky was talking, was saying something pleasant and funny, but his conscious mind was still enrapt at whom he had seen and the disbelief that followed.

 

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Bucky nudges him with his shoulder, hesitant smile on his face and worried eyes trained on Steve's. He gives Bucky a barely-there smile and nudges back half-heartedly.

 

"Uh…sorry what did you say?"

 

"I said, let's go home so I can start your education." Bucky replies, but Steve can see the cogs turning in his head. He watches the brunette look around at their surroundings and it makes Steve jump into action. He runs to stand in front of Bucky and gestures to the direction they came from.

 

"Uh…you leave and I'll catch up with you later." He rushes the words out and starts walking.

 

"Steve…" the brunette begins but Steve doesn't let him finish. He starts running in the direction and shouts goodbye to Bucky from over his shoulder.

 

"Later, bye."

 

And then he runs. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, as fast as his poor lungs will allow. He runs without stopping to look around or in front of him. He doesn't look at the people beside him or the cars on the road.

 

All he knows is that he saw somebody who was not supposed to be here. He saw somebody who was supposed to be miles away in Arizona. He saw somebody who was supposed to be at the Grand Canon with his mother.

 

He saw his father.

 

(*)

Notes:

So, we all knew this was coming :((

Chapter 13: They All Lie

Summary:

Where is Sarah?

Notes:

WARNINGS: Mention of domestic abuse, violence, blood and gory imagery.

Stay safe guys and here is the chapter we've all been waiting for :)

 

Steve leaves in a hurry, without looking back or around. Bucky watches him go, his instincts telling him to follow. He ignores them, fights the voices in his head that scream Steve's in danger and wills himself to turn around and go back home. He almost does it too, but his body refuses to get in line with his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, looks around for a second and then immediately takes off after Steve.

 

Unlike the petite blonde, Bucky is unable to navigate through the crowd like the wind. He follows Steve to a distance but soon loses the blonde in human traffic. He stops in the middle of the crowd and runs distraught hands through his hair

 

"Damnit!"

 

(*)

 

His journey ended at the footsteps to his house. He stood wheezing on the driveway, hands on knees and tried to get his thundering heart under control. He hoped that his worst fears weren't coming through. He wished that it wasn't what he was making it out to be. He prayed that all this wasn't another elaborate deception.

 

Hoping against every fibre in his being and his nagging thoughts, he rang the bell. He heard footsteps on the other side of the door and his heart sank. For once, he had really hoped he'd be proven wrong.

 

"I was hoping I wouldn't see you here. I really prayed for it too," he admitted to his mother with teary eyes. Sarah stared back at him in horror, her eyes getting misty the more she looked at him and shook her head in denial.

 

"Steve…Stevie…" she began but couldn't continue. Steve waited for her to say something, to disappear like a nightmare, a bad dream. But she stayed, looking at him with guilty eyes and a mortified expression.

 

"So, did they transfer Arizona here or did you lose your way, ma?" he doesn't need her to answer his question but he still waits. Waits for her to defend herself, to save him from the weight of her own actions.

 

"Steve, I was going to…how did you-" she begins and stops again, shamefaced and ashamed, head hanging low and tears rising high. Steve waits for her again, for the excuses, the tears, at the very least for the apology he deserves. They don't come, they never do, he thinks and almost smiles sadly at the thought.

 

"Know you were here? I didn't, ma. But thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate it." he tells the stairs under his feet.

 

"Steve, I…I didn't want you to…you must understand-" she stops again and this time Steve feels his patience slipping through, feels himself lose that tiny shred of any remaining empathy for his mother.

 

For years he has been understanding. For years he has been adjusting. For years he has been strong.

 

Every man breaks at some point. Today, Steve Rogers reaches that point.

 

"Yeah, I must understand that you were protecting my father and keeping me away from that shiner on your face. Don't worry mom, I've been understanding that since I was a child."

 

Even as he says it, it is hard to look away from the blooming bruise on her face, the stark contrast of blue-purple and her pale complexion. Its an unspoken rule in their house, no mention of the bruises, the cuts or the cigarette burns. It's the rule that no one mentions the screaming, the shouting, and the abuses. It is a rule that they don't feel sorry for the other, only for themselves.

And Steve broke the rule.

 

And Sarah's subsequent surprise is evident on her face, in the widening of her eyes and the gaping of her mouth.

 

"Steve…he-" this time Steve knows the excuses are coming, her defence for his father, the lies. He interrupts before she can feed him those again and throws his hands out to stop her from continuing.

 

When she flinches away from it, he pretends not to notice, even as it breaks his heart.

 

"Were you ever in Arizona? Did you go see the statue of liberty? Did he take you out on beautiful dates, buy you flowers as you claimed?" he feels the tears build up as he speaks. Feels the weight of every lie, every deception, every false statement hit him like a rock.

 

He's been hit before in his life. Bullies, his father, nuns in Catholic school, Mrs. Turner around the corner. But none of them hurt as much as his mother's lie. None of them hurt him with the intensity he experiences when his mother shakes her head and confirms his suspicion.

 

"No, Stevie. No…"

 

"Then what am I supposed to understand, ma? Other than the fact that you've lied to me for weeks, and did it to protect my abusive father, what am I supposed to understand?" he screams, his voice hoarse from holding back his sobs. He faces his mom with fury red eyes, not knowing whom the anger is meant for anymore.

 

He is angry at his mother for lying and protecting his father. He is furious at his father for breaking his promises and hurting his mother. But above all, he hates himself for ever believing his father could change.

 

"Stevie…please, sweetheart," Sarah begs but Steve doesn't let her stop him this time. This is where he has gone wrong in the past few years. He always lets her sway him; he always lets her talk him out of calling for help, she always convinces him that his father is good. This time Steve is not ready to be swayed, to be convinced, to not get her the help she needs. 

 

"Is this how little you think of me? You are in grave danger and you never let me know? Why? Why? I sacrificed my life for this?" at his last word, he gestures to her face, to the sorry state of it, to the tears in her eyes. As tears fall from her eyes, he turns away from her, turns his back to the picture of his breaking mother, a porcelain doll with far too many cracks.

 

Some days it gets harder to not walk away from all that.

 

"It is not like that. Please don't say that. Stevie, please-" she sobs harder and Steve feels his resolve lightly crack. He turns back to look at her, at her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The omega who hasn't been loved by the one who's supposed to love her. As angry as he is, he can't turn his back on her, not when she needs him.

 

She always did, always does, and Steve has already turned his back once, just a few weeks back.

 

This time he can't. He takes a step forward and takes his mother in his arms. Lets her rest her bony head on his equally bony shoulder and cry as much as her heart wants. It takes him back to the night before his marriage, situations reserved but the same fear and regret in the scent around them.

 

"No. No, mom. I think you don't get to give me excuses this time. This time I deserve an answer. Why did you do this? Why did you not tell me he had started again? This time I deserved to know, ma." He says softly as her sobs turn to whimpers and she stops shaking with the force of her cries. He rubs her back softly and lets her cry some more.

 

"And why is that, Steve? Why did you deserve to know what happened between two mates?" a voice booms from behind them and they both step away from each other but stay close. Steve stands in front of his mom, a hand out to protect her and faces the man he hates head on.

 

"Because you promised me this wouldn't happen anymore. You promised me that if I married Bucky, you'd treat mom right." He screamed at the alpha, his scent crying along with him. Behind him he heard Sarah whisper a no, a plea for him to stop now, to not fight his father.

 

His mother's plea did not go unheard even though it went unanswered.

 

"You're right, I did. But then you decided to play dirty. You turned my son against me, you made him hate me." Joseph took a step forward angrily and his overwhelming scent hits Steve in all its fury. He took a step back at the putrid scent and bumped his mother lightly, making her take a step back and bringing a malicious smile of victory on Joseph's face.

 

"What are you talking about? I did not turn James against you nor did I make him hate you. I don't know what you're talking about." And he did not. He had never spoken to Bucky about his dysfunctional family, had never given him a hint of Steve's less than stellar life at home. Though he hardly spoke of his father, Steve had spent too many afternoons with Bucky, on their couch, telling stories about his childhood with his mother and their many quirky traditions. He had always made them seem happy and content, even when they were not. 

 

He knew this was just another one of his father's manipulative techniques. But this time, Joseph would not get away with it.

 

"Don't lie to me, boy. You told him I was abusive and that I mistreated you. You poisoned his mind against me with your lies and now my son doesn't want anything to do with me. All because of a pathetic, useless omega like you!" Joseph yelled back and Steve was shocked to see tears in his father's eye. After all these years, after always wanting to see them, Steve was still not prepared for them at the moment.

 

Because for all his father's lies and manipulation, there was no way he could lie about this. He could and would never paint himself as a bad guy in Bucky's eyes. There's no way he would drag Bucky's name like this for his gain. And for tears to spring to Joseph's eye, Bucky would have to actually hurt him.

 

Steve was prepared for his father's lies, but it's the truth that hit him hard.

 

Because Bucky knew. Bucky knew about Steve's toxic relationship with his father, of his mother's mistreatment at the hands of his father and Steve's similar plight. Bucky knew somewhat the circumstances of their marriage and the conditions Steve's lived under. Bucky knew all that and didn't say a word to Steve.

 

But it did explain a lot of stuff that Bucky had done over the past few weeks. And it made Steve angry to just think about it.

 

They all lied, he realised. They all lie.

 

"Lies? What part of that is a lie, father? You're abusive and all you've done your entire life is mistreat people. First, it was my mom and then me. None of that is a lie except that James is your son. He. Is. Not. Your. Son. I am. And it is time you accept it."  he stepped forward, his finger wagging in front of Joseph and let his tone and scent convey all the anger he felt. Joseph matched him step for step, stopping only when they were at a foot distance from each other.

 

"No son of mine is a useless, pathetic omega. You are your mother's son, a result of her sins of being a bad omega to her mate. After all, I've done for the two of you, all you do is complain. Both of you. Ungrateful little shits." He looked at Sarah and then at Steve, literally spitting the words at the young omega's face.

 

"Why are you like this? Why are you so hateful and unkind? What did I ever do to you, father? How am I to be blamed for what I am?" Steve's voice broke but he held strong. Even as tears sprung to his eyes and his hands shook, he stayed strong and let his words convey the absolute despair he had felt over the tears, the plea to be seen in his father's eyes, to be acknowledged, to be loved. He stepped forward again, till he was feet to feet with his father and let his vulnerability show, just for once, just for today. 

 

"How dare you talk back to me! I'll show you hateful, you son of a-" Joseph raised his right hand, palm poised to strike and Steve closed his eyes. It wasn't fear anymore; it was just a patient wait.

 

Because the pain was long gone and a hit meant Steve was getting to his father.

 

But the hit never came and Steve opened his eyes.

 

Beside him, stood his mother, her hand tightly grasping Joseph's outstretched hand and her face a mask of barely concealed rage. Her hands shook with power and her lips quivered dangerously as she spoke.

 

"Don't you dare touch my son, Joseph. Don't you dare!" she shrieked and Steve felt a smile split open his face.

 

"Sarah, let go of me, you stupid bitch. How dare you block an alpha?" Joseph screamed but she refused to let go, matching him a force to force and anger to anger. She looked him dead in the eye and refused to be intimated by his alpha voice. She stood her ground despite her bond mark and alpha telling her otherwise.

 

"I dare because he is my son, you just said so, remember? And I'm also a bad omega, ungrateful and pathetic. I dare to because I'm done with you, Joseph. This ends now." She pushed his hands away and took Steve's hand in her own. She sidestepped Joseph and began to start walking away, but the alpha took hold of her hands at the last moment. He grabbed her wrist and looked at her with contempt and disgust, his face twisting in an ugly snarl and a growl making past his lips.

 

"Don't you dare you stupid cunt. I'm your alpha and you will not disobey me."

 

"Let go of me. Let. Go. Of. Me. Right. Now." She shrieked but Joseph just tightened his hold. He smiled at her in a cruel fashion and tugged her closer by her hand.

 

"Or what, you gonna beg me? Fall at my feet?" he cooed mockingly and Sarah bared her teeth in a snarl. She let go of Steve and placed her other hand on Joseph's and tightened her own hold till Steve could see the blood stop in his father's arm.

 

"No. I'm gonna make you." She barely warned before letting go of Joseph's wrist and using the arm to punch him in the face. A sickening crunch delighted Steve's ears as Joseph's nose bled and he let go of Sarah's hand to wipe at his nose. The moment Joseph's attention went to his nose, Sarah swept his feet from under him and was on him the moment he went down like a sack of rocks.

 

She delivered blow after blow to his face, let the bones in both her hand and his face break and bloody themselves. Tears streamed down her face as Joseph's screams became indistinguishable from Sarah's and her blood mixed in with his own.

 

It was almost poetic, the stuff of soulmates where it became hard to recognise where one ended and the other started, as they became a blurry image of screams and blood.

 

"Ma, let go ma, he's not worth it. Let go." Steve gently took hold of his mother's shoulders and guided her away from his broken father. Sarah stood still for a second, her eyes glazed over, and seemed to come back to herself only to see the bloodied, broken mess that she had left of her husband.

 

And the poor lady broke down. Years of pent up anger, despair, loneliness, helplessness, fear, love, loss, hate and betrayal came crashing down as she fell to her knees. Steve helped her up again and she fell against him, crying and sobbing, blabbering nonsense and apologies into his shoulder till Steve caught the most important words.

 

"Take me somewhere else, Stevie. Take me with you."

 

And he didn't need to hear more. He supported his mother and started walking away from their house. As they walked away, Steve realised it was never home.

Notes:

Your love and appreciation ( read: comments) keeps me going. Please validate me <3 <3 <3

Chapter 14: Am I All Alone

Summary:

People are not who they seem to be, and Steve's had enough of them.

Notes:

This was long coming.

If you don't tell the truth, the truth will tell on you.

20th March 2020

Steve didn't know where to go with his mom. He couldn't go back to James', not now at least and his going back to the house was out of contention. He had his wallet with him, but no phone, so calling Sam was ruled out too. He hired a cab and told the driver to start driving without a destination and looked out the window until inspiration struck.

 

And it did, in the form of a tall standing hotel and its bright shining lights. He booked two rooms with a connecting door and fell into his bed as soon as room service was ordered. Closed his eyes when the thoughts of an entire day threatened to overwhelm him. Groaned out loud when they eventually did.

 

"Steve, what's wrong, my son? Talk to me." He hadn't heard Sarah walk into his room, hadn't even detected the soft smell of rose water. He sat up as she approached and scooted back in bed when she took a seat on the edge of his bed.

 

"It's nothing ma. Go to sleep, we've had a long day."

 

"I am your mother, Stevie, I can't go to sleep knowing there's something bothering you." She moved closer to him and ran her hand through his hair. Without even meaning to, Steve leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a soft exhale.

 

As he closed his eyes, he took in their situation. He took in the calmness and serenity of their surroundings, the tranquillity of their scents. He inhaled deeply, the scent of roses in full bloom and vanilla with a tinge of sourness. Just his scent, doused in questions.

 

"Trust me, ma, you don't wanna know what's troubling me. You won't like what you're going to hear." He admitted softly and fully expected the hand in his hair to still or even get a bit rough. But Sarah did not falter, she continued to gently massage the blonde's scalp and hummed to acknowledge she had heard him.

 

"I am stronger than you think, honey. I don't break easily."

 

And didn't Steve know that! He had seen his mom go through countless abortions at his father's whims, had seen her get thrown around, beaten and mistreated numerous times. Had seen her endure verbal, physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her mate, had seen her be reduced to nothing but her gender by everybody around her and had seen her still stand back up every time.

 

He'd seen her cornered, threatened, vulnerable, weak, down and still get up to fight again. He had seen her on the verge of breaking a myriad of times and then come back merely a little bruised.

 

"Nah ma, you don't. And you're also more deceptive than I thought." He hadn't meant to say the last part but he couldn't keep it in anymore. His mother wouldn't break, she had said so herself, and Steve was dying to get some answers of his own. He sat up a little straighter and Sarah's hand fell from his hair. He moved till he was sat facing her and watched as her eyes grew big.

 

"Deceptive? Stevie, what are-" she began but Steve couldn't bear any more lies. He threw his hand up to stop her and looked into her eyes as he spoke.

 

"You've lied to me so many times, I don't know what to believe anymore. What have you not lied about, ma? What's true?"

 

"I never lied for myself, Stevie. I've only lied for you, honey." She answered defensively and upon seeing Steve's disbelieving face, extended both her arms comfortingly. Steve looked at his mother's open arms and craved to crawl into them and forget the disturbing thoughts on his head but he couldn't.

 

He wanted to know why he was kept in the dark for so long. He needed to know what other lies there were between them. He desired to know where they had gone wrong in their relationship.

 

"No. No, you didn't. You lied to me to make yourself feel better about staying married to dad. You lied to convince yourself you had done the right thing. You never lied for me, you lied for yourself."

 

"Steve! That's not true and you know it. You know I could and would never-" her voice rose at the accusations and Steve felt sick at the smell of rotting roses. He shook his head at her, at the tears he wasn't entirely convinced were true and moved back a little on the bed to make save between them.

 

Both metaphorically and physically. For what he was going to ask next, he needed both.

 

"What you said about the war changing dad, was it true? Was he very loving and caring before marriage?" he asked her, eyes trained on her and voice unwavering. She froze at his questions and Steve knew he had hit the mark where it mattered.

 

She tried to look away, hide from his piercing gaze but he refused to let her do so, refused to let her shut him down now when he was finally getting the answers he had always wanted.

 

"No. No, he was not. I…" she began shamefaced, but couldn't continue. Tears sprung to her eyes at the admission and she averted her eyes from Steve as he felt his body seize up in shock.

 

"The war. It changes people, Stevie. Makes them cold and hard. It did the same to your father too. It made him afraid and paranoid and when he came back home from it one summer, all he could think about was having a son and continuing the family name. He was so scared that once he went back, he would never return and his family name would end with that. Get lost in oblivion. After that time, I've never seen him smile the way he used to. Hasn't said a nice word to me in so long. It wasn't you, darling, it was the war that made your father hate me. Don't give yourself that credit."

 

Lies, more lies. He felt tears prick his eyes at the realisation. It felt as if nothing he had heard in this lifetime was true, everything had been deception or manipulation. Steve didn't know what was true anymore, what was said to appease him and what was said to make him a fool.

 

And to think most of these came from the person he most trusted, his ma.

 

"Did it to protect me? Or to protect your image? The omega who did not abandon her mate even after the war made him a cruel, horrible man instead of an omega who was afraid of leaving her mate because she didn't know what to do with herself without him? Was that not what happened? Tell me, mom. Tell me!" he screamed as he tried to forget the images of that night from his head. God! He had been so naïve. He had believed his mother, had convinced himself that his father was the way he was because of war. Had blamed the war on what was nobody's fault but his father's.

 

He tried to forget about the Steve who had found so much happiness in that news, in knowing he wasn't who made his father such a cruel, heartless man and was ready to forgive him too.

 

 

"It was my choice, Steve. As a female omega, you have no idea what I go through on a daily basis. To me, a choice is a big deal, because I don't always get one. The society has always chosen for me, from when I get married, whether my kids live or die, the job I do, what I study, everything. Marrying your father was the one choice I made, it was my choice alone. No one else had a say in it, I didn't let them have a say in it. It was my choice and I was not going to give them a chance to use that against me. It was the one choice I made and I was going to defend it, Steve. My choice, my choice!" hot tears streamed down her face but Steve could not be moved by them anymore. He got up from the bed, his own cheeks were shiny from tears that had spilled across and jabbed a finger at his mother, anger flashing in his eyes and crowding the already grief-stricken scents in the room.

 

 

"But it was my life you destroyed, ma. I understand what you go through, as a woman and as an omega, but my life, ma, did that never matter to you? Did you never think where your choices were leading you and I? You defended your choices, mom, but in doing so, you forgot to defend your son." His screams reverberated in the room till he himself couldn't stand in anymore. He sunk to the bed, his head in his hands as everything he just accused his mother of crashed over him.

 

He never knew that he thought such things, never knew that he harboured such feelings of resentment towards his mother. He had always believed that his anger was towards his father, but the fact that he may be bitter about his mother not protecting him, not defending him, had never crossed his mind. He couldn't believe what he had just said, but at the same time, he knew they were true feelings that he's always had.

 

"Is that what you think I did? Did I ask you to make the deal with your father? Did I ask you to marry James? Did I ever ask you to stand up against your father for me? What did I ever ask of you, Steve, that you blame me for destroying your life?" Sarah's voice was a dead whisper, soft yet hoarse in its delivery. Steve looked up at the question, at his mother who sat still and looked dead ahead as if she had seen a ghost and immediately felt guilty about what he had said.

 

He moved closer to her, his arm out to console her, but she threw his arm off her.

 

"Mom…I…"

 

"It's easy to blame others for your life, Steve. I'm sure there were times I didn't stand up for you against your father, didn't support you the way you wanted me too or even choose you. But I've never taken your choice away. I told you that you didn't have to marry James, that I was happy with my life. I told you, you didn't have to move out of the house. I told you to go to college and finish your studies, I even saved up for you. You chose to do or not to do anything with the suggestions I gave you. You made every single one of these choices, Steve, while I never got to make any. Marrying your father was my choice and it led me down a path of pain and heartache, but I still stand by it. It was my choice and I'm not gonna let you make me feel bad about it. Do you hear me?" she stood with a face set in stone and Steve could merely nod.

 

He had been given choices his entire life and it was not something his mom could say. He knew times were tough for him as a male omega but he couldn't imagine what his mom would have gone through as a female omega in a time that wasn't as progressive as now. He felt more tears come to his eyes as he thought back to the allegations he had made against his mother and there was hardly any more than he could shed.  

 

"I am sorry, ma, I really am. Thank you for everything you've done for me. Thank you for giving me a choice even when you didn't have one. I don't know where those hateful things came from, I just…"

 

"It's been a long day?" Sarah filled in with a small smile and took him into her arms, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his back with soothing circles.

 

"Yeah, it's been a long day." He admitted and barely stifled a yawn as his eyes grew tried with the events of a rather long day.

 

"Go to sleep, Stevie. We can talk about it tomorrow." Sarah placed another kiss to his forehead and lay him down on his bed. She pulled the comforter over him and tucked him in bed with a small smile.

 

Steve caught her arm as she made her way back to her room and apologised in a small voice.

 

"I am sorry, ma."

 

"I know you are, sweetheart. I'm your mother, I know you." She smiled sadly at him and left his room, leaving him in a dark room with his darker thoughts and a pang of guilt weighing a thousand pounds.

 

(*)

 

21st March 2020

It wasn't until late morning that Steve went back to James' house to get his belongings. He used James' spare key to enter and didn't wait to even hang up his coat before leaping up the stairs into hi- the guest bedroom and gather his things. Much to his chagrin, in the few days he had stayed here, he had already packed up his entire apartment and moved it over. His easels and canvases were stored in the storeroom and the guest room was littered with his sketchbooks, charcoals, pencils, and watercolors. His freshly laundered clothes were neatly folded and left on his bed by James but the rest lay scattered on his chair and the floor.

 

He grimaced at the mess and started picking up his clothes, first from the floor and then from his bed. He popped into the bathroom for his toiletries and medicines before making quick work of his stationery. He grabbed his duffel back from the back of the closet and started filling it haphazardly, paying no attention to dirtying his clothes or spoiling his supplies.

 

He was so immersed in his task that he didn't notice the distressed chocolate scent of an alpha or said alpha entering his bedroom.

 

"Jesus! Steve. At least call and tell me you're not gonna come home." He exclaimed loudly and Steve jumped in surprise. He, however, did not turn around to look at the brunette and continued packing his bags.

 

"I was caught up in something and I didn't have my phone." It is not a lie. He had not taken his phone when he had visited the museum with James and after that, he hadn't returned home. His phone still lay on the bedside table where he had left it in the morning and Steve made a note to himself to not forget it when he left.

 

"You couldn't use somebody else's phone?" James questioned, his scent radiating nauseating amounts of worry and concern and it made Steve scoff. His own scent was far from happy with James at the moment and he kept his back to the brunette despite the alpha trying otherwise.

 

"I didn't think you were that important."

 

"Steve, what's wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?" James walked around Steve to face him and Steve felt a surge of anger at the look of pain James was sporting.

 

They all lie, he reminded himself. James had lied to him. Had hidden from him what he knew about Steve all these days. He was like every other alpha; he too had lied, deceived Steve, all the while pretending he wasn't like all other alphas. 

 

"No." the omega bit out and refused to even lift his head and acknowledge James' presence.

 

"If you ever wanna talk, I'm here. We're married after all." He gave Steve a small smile, expecting Steve to smile at their little inside joke, but Steve didn't return it, didn't even concede the gesture in any way. He continued stuffing clothes into his duffel and only stopped for a second to get his charger from his nightstand.

 

"Not for long." He murmured and the resulting surge of putrid chocolate was enough to make him wrinkle his nose and fight back the bile rising at the back of his tongue. He wills his heart to stop thundering and continues packing his bag while James splutters and stutters through his words.

 

"What do you mean?" he crocked out after a while and Steve shrugged nonchalantly.

 

"We should get divorced. We don't have to stay married anymore."

 

A pin dropped on the ground could be heard in the silence that followed those words. Steve stopped packing for a second, gauging James' reaction to the statement but James didn't physically react beyond a hitched breath and tightening of his shoulders. His scent peaked though, worry, concern, and confusion marring the otherwise perfect chocolate and it made something in Steve's chest hurt.

 

He had promised himself he wouldn't feel bad. He promised himself he would stand strong in front of whatever new lie James pulled on him. He wasn't going to let the alpha trick him again.

 

"What are you talking about? Steve, what's wrong? Talk to me." James sounded almost devastated and begging but Steve refused to be swayed by the alpha's breaking voice. He closed his eyes tightly and pulled his last pair of sweatpants into the duffel.

 

"I just did. I told you we should get a divorce." He shrugged and started zipping his duffel closed. He did not think of the symbolical gesture; bottling up his demons again without fighting them, without questioning them. an act of running again, just as he had when turned 18. Just as he was again, at 20. Always running, with no home to ever run to.

 

 He sidestepped James and pulled his charger out of the port before picking up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

 

"But why? What about my word to your dad?"

 

"My dad's not in the picture anymore."

 

"Dad's not in…Steve, what's going on? Where were you last night? What's going on damnit?" James yelled in desperation and all of Steve feigned cool left him in a flash. He turned red, teary eyes on him and fisted his hands at his sides. He tried controlling his breath and the erratic beat of his heart, but they were all a lost cause once he started talking.

 

"Why should I tell you anything, so you can pity me some more? Huh? So you can confer some more favours on me, offer me your friendship, a home, a companionship? Protect me from people and things I don't need protection from, play my knight in fucking shining armour?"

 

Every word hurt, but the truth always did.

 

He applauded himself for not crying, for not falling to his knees like he wanted to. He couldn't, however, bring himself to look at James when he spoke, because he knew he would fail then. He didn't need to look at the alpha to gauge his reaction though, he could see the confusion, the pain, the concern fly across those expressive features. And he knew from James' scent that his assumption wasn't far-fetched, he could smell it in the air around.

 

"Steve…I don't know what you are talking about. Make yourself clear."

 

"I'll make myself clear, you asshole. You lied to me for weeks. You lied through some stellar deception, offered me a friendship out of pity, made some fucked up story about me making this place home because you knew I had nowhere else to go, and confronted my father on my behalf when no one asked you to. You, James Barnes, tried to play alpha to an omega who didn't need it or want it in the slightest." He screamed and finally found the courage to look up at James.

 

And it was a mistake because if James was still acting, he was a painfully good actor. His face was a mask of pain, of betrayal and agony as if Steve had been the one lying to him for weeks. He hesitantly raised a hand towards Steve, palm upturned, his eyes watery as he asked in a hoarse voice. 

 

"You think this was a pity friendship? Steve, I never-" he began but Steve couldn't bear to hear anymore.

 

He was done listening to people feeding him lies. He was done listening to them make excuses for their lies, deceptions, betrayal. He was done being naïve and trusting even after having suffered the consequences for it multiple times.

 

He had stood up for his mother. He had made excuses for his father. He had forgiven his bullies again and again. Maybe, it was time he did the same for himself.

 

"Shove it, Barnes. I'm done. I'm leaving, I'll come back for the rest of my things later." He shoved James out of his way and picked up his duffel bag from the bed and slung it over his shoulder.

 

"Steve…please listen to me. Wait…" Bucky called from behind him and he almost hesitated at the door. Putting his next foot forward was harder after that, but he managed. One after the next, one foot following the other, head held high and duffel bag in tow.

 

Soon he was gone.

 

(*)

Notes:

WEEP WITH ME BECAUSE I HATE THIS!!! BUT NECESSARY EVIL AND ALL THAT :((((

Chapter 15: Where Do We Go, Now That They Are Gone

Summary:

Night time is a time of self realization and introspection for the boys.

Notes:

This chapter tried to kill me :(

He tossed and turned recklessly, sleep not coming to him, even as the clock ticked away, recording every second, every minute, every hour. He kicked his sheets away and sat on the edge of his bed, tears in his eyes from both his frustration and his horrible day. His scent stunk up his room, frustration and botheration making it foul and sour as he shuffled restlessly in bed.

 

His footsteps resonated in the empty house, one that had just seemed like home a day back. He ignored the silence that lay thick in the dark and made his way downstairs for a glass of warm milk.

 

He stood by the stove as the milk warmed but couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering back to the blonde who walked out on him in the afternoon and then continued to ignore his calls since.

 

What had he been to Steve? What had their relationship meant to the blonde? Had he ever looked at Bucky and seen what Bucky had seen when he looked at Steve?

 

Had he seen a friend, a companion, a light in the darkness? Had he seen a gift., a blessing, serendipity? Had he seen just another alpha, somebody who only thought about his knot, his rut? Had Steve not seen how important he was to Bucky? Together for all of 2 weeks and some days and Steve had become so important to Bucky. Had he not been the same to Steve?

 

Who was he to Steve?

 

"Friends?"

 

The blonde's words echoed in his head and he shook them to clear it out. That's not what they were, Steve had made it very clear. Had made it very clear that Bucky was not important to him at all. Verbatim stated it.

 

He swallowed nausea that hit him at the remainder. He didn't know how everything they had, had hit the fan so quick. He had been the happiest he had ever been in the past few days. He had his boyfriend; his best friend and they had been getting along so well. He replayed the previous day in his head, the three of them, peace, content, and laughter in the kitchen.

 

And remembering that brought back memories of his trip to the Smithsonian with Steve, the wonderful day they'd spent together and the amazing memories. He could hardly believe that had happened a mere day prior; they'd been so happy.

 

"Look who's being funny, Bucket Barnes."

 

Maybe it was Bucky being funny, thinking there was any future with Steve. Their relationship, from their marriage to their friendship, all came with a ticking clock, a time constraint. They were not meant to be together, having been forced together by a cruel man for whatever selfish needs he had. It wasn't fate who brought them together, it was Joseph and Bucky thought it was rather poetic that he would be the one forcing them apart too.

 

"You're an alpha, why couldn't you punch him in the face, it's not like the law is gonna come after you for breaking hierarchical norms. Was the guy an alpha?"

 

The very words that had brought a smile to his face then, brought a scowl now. Steve had wanted him to punch Joseph then, but knowing Bucky had confronted him, he had walked out.

 

He stood up suddenly at the memory, threw the glass he was holding on to the floor and watched on in satisfaction as it shattered into what felt like a million little pieces. The satisfaction lasted all of a second before grief took hold of him again. The glass may have shattered beyond repair but his heart still felt more broken. Because not only had seeing Steve walk out broken it, every step he took away from Bucky had felt like he was walking on those broken pieces.

 

"No more loneliness, James."

 

Lies, all fucking lies. Bucky hadn't been the only one who had lied. Steve had promised, made Bucky promise too, that it was the end of loneliness for them both, that they would always be there be for each other. And Steve hadn't followed through on his promise, had walked right out of Bucky's life, leaving him alone, in a house that again seemed too big.

 

He turned off the stove but didn't move to pour the milk out, just stood watching it till he could clear Steve out of his head. The blonde shouldn't be getting to him like this anyway, Bucky had known him all of two weeks. And he hadn't known the true Steve either, not of Steve's own volition anyway, he had known the Steve who thought he was fooling Bucky with whatever happy stories of family.

 

"Yup. A get-to-know-your-husband. I'll start. Well… my name is Steve Rogers and I'm twenty years old. I'm an artist and I do graphic designing on the side. I work for Stark Industries and have been doing so for around four years. My hobbies include reading and drawing and if I could be any vacation, I'd be a foreign trip."

 

Bucky scoffed at the words. A get to know your husband, apparently. Bullshit! was what it was. He hadn't been the only one who hid something, Steve had also done the same. In fact, both of them had the same secret, Steve's abusive dad and his less than stellar childhood. He couldn't understand why his knowledge of that had upset Steve.

 

His hands shook as he reached out for the milk. He stopped and took a deep breath.

 

Even as he poured the milk out, his attention kept going to his cabinet, more precisely to the bottle of whiskey he knew he had in there. He could feel the liquor call out to him, extend a warm invitation to drown out all his grief in its comforting amber embrace. He took a step towards the cabinet, towards the numbing feeling he had been chasing all day but stopped himself.

 

He shook his head, tried to forget both the blonde and the amber liquid that sloshed around in his head and gripped the glass of milk in his hand more tightly. He absentmindedly took a sip, burning his tongue and finally bringing put the tears he had been fighting all day.

 

 

He sobbed, screamed, cried as he relived each day with Steve, each day he had found himself getting closer to the blonde. He cried at all the times they had sat on the couch watching Grace and Frankie, sobbed at every meal they partook together, screamed when he thought of all jokes they had shared, every smile, every laugh.

 

"As if you and doughnuts are not the modern-day Romeo Juliet. You should see your face when you finish eating them, Shakespeare would applaud that drama."

 

He barely caught himself from falling on to the floor as each memory got harder than the other. He stumbled to his couch, buried himself into the pillows as the realisation that he had fucked up caught up to him.

 

And he had. He had tried to play alpha, wittingly or unwittingly he had tried to portray himself as a knight in shining armour thus reducing Steve to a damsel in distress. He had hidden his knowledge from Steve, had let Steve think he was fooling Bucky with whatever great things he said about his family. He had let Steve think that Bucky was ignorant about Steve's familial relations.

 

And by the time Steve had realised, his actions had all seemed as a charity, something that had never crossed Bucky's mind. He needed to apologise to Steve, show him that he had realised his mistake, had realised that he had no right to treat Steve like that.

 

"You're a great husband, tarts."

 

He had to prove to Steve that he could be a good friend too, that all this was not pity, it had never been a pity. Their friendship was not built on pity, but it had been built on lies and they could rectify it, they could overcome this.

 

"My husband is a hero and that is all I need to know."

 

No, that's not all Steve needs to know. Steve needs to know how much Bucky wants him in his life, as his friend, as his companion, his serendipity. Steve needs to know that he is important to Bucky, he is a part of Bucky's home. Always will be.

 

And that's what he is going to tell Steve.

 

"No…this is home to me too. It happened too quickly, too suddenly, but it happened. This became home. I don't want to leave."

 

And he knows Steve wants it too. This is Steve's home too; he is Steve's home. They may both have their issues to work through, they both have years of trauma to get through but they can do it together, they can get through anything together. He's not the only one in this, Steve's there too, he just needs to remind Steve. They're better together, happier together. They are friends, thrown together by destiny, irrespective of who caused it. They met for a reason and Bucky is not gonna let Steve go without one either.

 

They can fix this, he knows. He knows he is ready to fight for them and he knows so is Steve.

He stumbles into his bedroom and grabs his phone. He can do this, they can still save their friendship, he knows he can.

 

(*)

 

Steve turns on to his back and throws an arm across his eyes. Sleep seems to not want to come to him and peace seems to have deserted him. He knows his scent is distressed beyond compare and his eyes always seem to be seeking out something in the dark. He pushes the comforter off his body and curls up on his side again, squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore the unusually loud thundering of his heart.

 

"When I came back from Afghanistan, I had to play loud music to fall asleep at night, because the house was too quiet and I wasn't used to that."

 

He jerked upright at James' voice in his head and looked around to make sure it had actually been only inside his head. He shook his head vigorously to get the gravelly voice out of his thoughts and lay back down after pulling the comforter back up till his neck.

 

His harsh breaths took over the silence in the room and his scent spiked in its displeasure. The room smelled and stank of gloom and he snuggled deeper inside the comforter to escape the stench of his own despair.

 

He didn't understand the source of his distress. He didn't feel guilty about anything he said, neither to his father, mother or to James. His father, that horrible, cruel man, had deserved whatever Steve had said to him, Sarah's anger and probably all of the world's methods of torture for the way he had treated Steve and more importantly Sarah.

 

Even though Sarah had pointed out to him how misplaced his anger at her was, truth be told Steve still wasn't feeling as guilty as he thought he would, considering all that he had accused his mother of. Sarah may not have taken away his choice, but she had kept him in the dark for too long, supported his abusive father for longer. He was still angry about that, probably would be for a while too, but he knew they would bounce back from that, the mother-son duo always did.

 

But James…

 

Compared to what Joseph and Sarah had done, said, hidden, James had done nothing wrong. He knew about Steve's shitty father, maybe even the circumstances of their wedding and he had confronted Joseph about it. Did Steve have any right to get angry about that, considering he didn't know what they spoke about? All he knew was that James had told Joseph he didn't want anything to do with him, anymore. And that was understandable, considering what he knew Joseph had done.

 

"Sorry, just ran into an asshole and he insulted someone I know. I couldn't punch him in the face and it really irked me, I guess."

"Yeah, still a dick. But the person he was insulting, I don't think they would've been happy I hit the guy. Instead, I think they'd have come hit me."

 

The realisation hit like a freight train. James had been talking about Joseph, had been pissed because Joseph had insulted Steve. and he had been right about Steve too. James had not even touched Joseph, just had some words with him and that still irked Steve, still made him insult James and walk out.

 

Why?

 

Why was he so angry at the one person, he isn't totally sure he's justified against?

 

The answer knocks on his conscious but he chooses to ignore it, instead settles for his ‘pity' escape.

 

James had pitied him, had offered friendship and a place to live because he had pitied Steve, pitied the conditions Steve had faced in his life. He had offered Steve a companionship because Steve had told him about the loneliness he felt at his old apartment. He settled for a truce with Steve because Steve was the one who begged for a friendship when they met for coffee. He offered to hold the divorce because he knew Sarah was in trouble.

 

He didn't do anything he did, because he cared about Steve. He did it because he is a fucking alpha who thought Steve needed his protection, his care, his fucking pity. Steve doesn't, hasn't ever needed handouts from anyone, much less a chauvinistic alpha.

 

He sat up as his anger boiled over, his scent wailing and screaming as his hands hurt from gripping the comforter too hard. He swiped angrily at the air around him, knocking off a vase sitting on the bedside table and his glasses. He threw the comforter off himself and jumped out of bed to pace angrily.

 

Who the fuck did James think he was, trying to play alpha to Steve? Who did he think he was, inviting himself into Steve's problems? Who was he to tell Steve's dad off for being abusive? Who was he to pity Steve, when his own life was a pit of loneliness? Who did he think they were to each other?

 

"I thought we established the fact that we were husbands?"

 

No! No, they were not. They were not husbands, they were not friends, they did not mean anything to each other. Bucky had Pietro to play husband with him, or home or whatever new fantasy he had. Steve was nobody to him, not ever, not now, not anymore.

 

Bucky had a home long before Steve, and Steve no longer felt welcome into it.

 

"Steve…Steve look at me. We're…I…I was a mess before you came. I was lonely and this house was too big. I know you were the same, lonely and living in a too big apartment. You've made this place home, Stevie. You came in that door and brought something with you, something that makes this house a home and soothes an ache in me I didn't know I had. The circumstance of our meeting was less than ideal, but that circumstance gave me a very good friend and I'm not gonna turn my back on him just because somebody else came through. Just because Pietro came to my life, doesn't mean you have to leave. You're my friend, Stevie, and I'm pleading with you to stay. Please stay, unless you want to leave. Do you?”

 

And that was it. Steve fell on the floor sobbing his heart out. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. He couldn't become one of those people anymore. If anyone was going, to be honest to him, it would have to be Steve himself.

 

And the honest, naked, vulnerable truth? It was that Steve had nothing to actually blame on James. Had no reason to hate him. He may have hidden what he knew, but how could he ever bring it up to Steve? How could he reveal to Steve that he knew Steve's dad was an asshole? And when had Steve given him a chance to do so either?

 

They were husbands, they were friends, they were each other's guiding light in the darkness of loneliness. They were not strangers; they were not nothings to each other. They were the home the other had always craved. Steve was Bucky's home, just as Bucky was Steve's.

 

So why was he angry with James?

 

Because it was easier to get angry at James and walk out, then to stand there and face every lie he had ever said that had fallen flat in James' eye. Because now that Sarah is safe, Steve has no need to stay in James' life anymore and it's easier to walk out in anger than in tears.

 

It's because it's easier to say goodbye in anger than in grief because as much as he wants to deny it, James has become home and Steve can't bear to give him up.

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

And now it killed you :(

 

Chapter 16: Sam And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Summary:

Sam is smart, the boys listen to him.

22nd March 2020

Sam blinked his eyes open blearily and squinted at the clock on his side table. He groaned at the little green digits and blindly searched for his blaring phone. He glared at the name on the screen for a second before swiping accept and closing his eyes.

 

"This better be important, Barnes, it's fucking 2 in the morning." He ground out as patiently as he could and pulled up his blanket back up till his neck.

 

"Steve left, Sam. He walked out today afternoon and…I don't know where he is. He's not at his old apartment or his parents' house. He's not picking up his phone and he's not been responding to my voicemails and…and…" James' hysterical voice came through and it made Sam sit up immediately. He barely registered the words James was saying, his attention on the brunette's irregular breathing, and he immediately went into his therapist mode. 

 

"Calm down, Bucky! Take a deep breath. C'mon. In and out. In and out." He guided softly and he could hear James pause for a second on the other side.

 

He kept breathing slowly and loudly into the phone, holding each breath for a few seconds before releasing, till he could hear Bucky doing the same on the other side. He could hear the brunette's breathing settle eventually and Sam sat up straighter against his headboard.  

 

"Now calmly tell me what happened and start from where ever things went south because I know Steve and he doesn't just walk out."

 

Bucky started talking. His voice though devoid go the earlier hysteria, still had an undertone of grief and worry and it made Sam upset. He had worked with Bucky when he had just returned from Afghanistan and this Bucky was unfortunately and uncomfortably very similar to the Bucky he remembered from then. He tried to concentrate on the words the brunette spoke, but as Bucky's long-time friend and therapist, he couldn't keep his attention completely off the brunette's breaking voice.

 

Bucky told him about the circumstances surrounding his marriage to Steve; something Sam already knew from Steve, but he didn't point it out to the distraught alpha. He told him about the deal Joseph made and the request he had in turn made to Steve. He went on to talk about the signs of abuse that Steve and Sarah showed, and he witnessed, followed by Sarah's extremely cryptic yet clear message to take care of Steve. He relayed to Sam his run-in with Joseph, the older alpha's insults about Steve and the way he had in turn given Joseph a piece of his mind.

 

Then he talked about how he had visited the museum with Steve two days prior and how happy Steve had seemed at the exhibit and then how he had apparently just taken off from there without any rhyme or reason and without giving Bucky any explanation.

 

"And then he came back yesterday afternoon and just started packing his bags. I asked him where he had been and why he hadn't called but he replied by demanding a divorce. I asked him about his father but he shot me down by saying his father was not in the picture anymore. I-"

 

But that caught Sam's attention. He stopped Bucky immediately and asked in a hurry, his own voice a little frantic.

 

"Wait a minute. He said his father's not in the picture anymore? What does that mean?"

 

"I don't know. I tried to ask him but he…" Bucky trailed off, his voice hitching a little again. Sam waited for him, giving him time to gather his thoughts and continue, but Bucky didn't say anything for a long time.

 

"He what, Bucky?" Sam prompted softly and Bucky made a soft sound on the other line as if he had just woken up. Sam recognised it for what it was, somebody who had just come out of his own head, so he didn't push again.

 

"He got upset with me. Said I had always treated him with pity and offered him a home and companionship out of pity. And that I just wanted to play a knight in shining armour, be an alpha to an omega to didn't need it." the brunette finished softly and Sam closed his eyes at that.

 

He could imagine the pain it must've caused Bucky to hear it, the weird sense of déjà vu that must've accompanied the words. He cursed Steve softly under his breath and addressed Bucky with a softness in his voice that he reserved for his patients.

 

"And what did you say? Did you tell him he was wrong?"

 

"I tried to, but he wouldn't listen to me. He told me to shove it and he just walked out." He heard Bucky exhale a sigh in exhaustion and he closed his own in the same. He ran a hand through his cropped hair and took a deep breath.

 

"If I ask you something, will you please be honest with me?" he asked for the sake of earning them both some time to compose themselves. He knew the answer Bucky was gonna give, but he waited for it nonetheless.

 

"Of course, Sam."

 

"Was it pity? Did you feel sorry for him when you realised the kind of life he had led, the way he had been treated? Were you helping him out of pity?" he asked and prayed that the answer would not be in the affirmative.

 

He knew Bucky, he knew the brunet didn't do things out of pity. He had known Bucky long enough to know his own hatred for pity, his absolute abhorrence of that emotion. But Sam had to ask, for Steve, for the blonde he cared about immensely. He had full faith in Steve's ability to read people, but just this one time he hoped the blonde was wrong. He really did.

 

And he needed proof of that from Bucky. 

 

"No! Jesus! No. I was trying to help, but it wasn't from a place of pity, wasn't even because I wanted to play the alpha. Maybe it started out as repentance, came from a place of guilt, but when I got to know him a little better, it was all genuine, Sam. I felt sorry for him, but my actions didn't arise out of that. They were genuine, I swear." He could hear the sincerity in Bucky voice and the relief in his own as he spoke.

 

"What were you repenting, Bucky? Where did guilt even factor in?"

 

"We met at a coffee shop after it was decided that there would be no going back on the word I'd given Joseph. I was hoping Steve would've convinced him to call it off, but that didn't happen. I was pissed, Sam, everything I'd hoped for back in Afghanistan: love, family, a white picket fence; it was all crumbling around me. I asked him why he had gone back on his word to me but he deflected the question and that irked me to no end. I shook off his attempt at being friends and stormed out. By the time I had connected the dots, understood that he had little to no choice in the matter, the guilt wouldn't let me live. So, I admit the truce came from a place of guilt, but everything after that was genuine affection. I never lied to him about the fact that I liked his company or that he was the best real-fake husband I could have. He did make this place home and I offered for him to stay because of that. It wasn't pitying, Sam, I swear." The brunette stressed again and Sam nodded to himself.

 

He understood the reasons for Bucky's behaviour, he could see why Bucky did what he did, both at the coffee shop and during his truce with Steve. He knew better than anybody that guilt was a better motivator than any otter emotion, he had after all been the guilty one on more occasions than one. But he needed Bucky to know where he had gone wrong.

 

Because he was not just Bucky's friend, he was Steve's too.

 

"Your repentance must have felt a lot like pity to him, Bucky. After a life of being pitied by everybody for being born an omega and not the healthiest one at that, he doesn't understand the difference between pity, repentance, help or affection. It's probably all the same to him and you must understand that. Why didn't you tell him you knew about Joseph? Why did you let him believe he was lying to you?"

 

"Because I didn't know how to bring it up. What was I supposed to say, Sam? Hey let's go visit the Smithsonian and by the way, I know your father abused your mom and you. There is no right time to bring up an issue like this, especially to someone who doesn't want you knowing any of it." he almost shouts, voice part exasperation and part frustration. He sounded tired and exhausted and Sam doesn't need Bucky to tell him that he hasn't slept a wink since Steve disappeared om him at the museum.

 

He doesn't know what to say to any of it. He honestly doesn't know how to help Bucky, to answer what he's asking, but he promised the brunette long back that he would always be there for him. And he was going to be too, even if it is just to give Bucky a little background on Steve and nothing else.

 

He can't tell Bucky how to apologise to Steve, but he can tell Bucky who Steve is, how he thinks and let Bucky go from there.

 

"No. But you could've given him a hint that you knew. Something that wouldn't have made him feel like a fool. For all of his exterior ice, Steve's a softie inside, Bucky. It's easy to hurt him, whether you realise it or not. You have to know that what you have done is nothing short of deception, you let him believe a lie that he was himself selling. It's like playing hide and seek with a child, Bucky. The child believes that just because they can't see you, it means you can't see them and we play along to that to humour them, make their day. But in your case, it's a grown man. A child may not understand that you are pretending to not see them out, of pity or whatever other reason you wanna put there, but another adult will know and it is not a pleasant feeling to feel stupid. Steve thought he was fooling you and you let him keep thinking so."

 

"How do I make this better, Sam? I want to apologise, but he won't even pick up my call and I don't know where he is. It doesn't matter if he doesn't forgive me, I just need to tell him I'm sorry, come clean about everything. I need to make sure he's safe, Sam."

 

"You're playing alpha again." Sam admonished not without kindness, but Bucky erupted at that. He could hear the indignance in Bucky's voice even before he spoke and he sighed softly. 

 

"No, I'm not. I'm being a friend. Jesus! You know how unsafe this place is, especially for omegas."

 

And Sam did know that. Knew that Steve could very well be in danger, out and about in the streets. But he knew Steve was smarter than that, wouldn't leave Bucky's without at least a plan as to where to go. But that didn't make it any less scary. He scrubbed at his eyes and exhaled softly.

 

"Sorry. I'll see if I can reach him and if I can't, we'll go searching, okay?" he asked softly, more for Bucky's peace of mind than his own, but that seemed to do the trick. The fight drained out of Bucky's voice and he was back to his soft-spoken self.

 

"Yeah. And Sam, sorry for waking you up. I didn't know who else to call." He admitted softly and Sam's heart hurt in his chest. Bucky had been back only a few months and the dude sounded more exhausted than he had when he arrived fresh of the battlefield, an arm lighter and guilt-ridden. He made a mental note to bring up Bucky's sleep schedule the next time he saw the brunette at the VA and hummed softly.

 

"That's okay, Bucky, but tell me this, what is your plan if Steve does forgive you?"

 

"Invite him back home. Try to make it up to him, hopefully, start afresh. No more lies. I'm gonna be honest with him, a clean slate so that we may go from there." Bucky spoke with conviction and Sam believed him. He nodded and rubbed at his eyes, sleep still lingering in the corners of his lids, and chanced another glance at the clock beside his bed.

 

"So, will you tell him about Hydra?" he asked and could hear the sudden breath Bucky drew. The brunette didn't speak for a long time, more than enough that Sam had to check he hadn't hung up on him and when he did start, it was after a long inhale.

 

"Sam…I don't know if I can. That's…" the brunette began but Sam interrupted before he could give any excuses. If Steve was gonna come clean, then Bucky would have to do the same too. And he made sure to let Bucky know that too.

 

"No more difficult than admitting to having suffered years of child abuse. He got forced into marrying you, James, Hydra will probably be easier."

 

"I don't know, Sam. I really don't." Bucky sighed and Sam knew it was the end of that conversation. He didn't expect Bucky to actually agree and the fact that they had a dialogue about it and Bucky was still on the other line meant the brunette had made some progress around his sensitive hydra issue. Or that he was too occupied with his Steve one.

 

Sam let the issue slide for now and concentrated on something he had been itching to ask since Bucky talked about Steve walking out.

 

"One last thing, Barnes. Was Joseph there at his place?" he asked feigning nonchalance, while he's holding his breath in anticipation.

 

"No. Nobody was there." Bucky answered dutifully and Sam nodded distractedly. He needed to know what had happened between the Rogers and he needed to make sure Steve and Sarah were okay. He didn't trust Joseph, not a bit and with good reason to.

 

"Okay. Go to sleep, Bucky, Steve will be okay. I'll call him, okay?"

 

"Sam, I had one last thing to ask." The brunet hurriedly added and Sam nodded wearily.

 

"Go ahead."

 

"Do you think starting these two relations at the same time was a mistake? Should I have waited for a firmer footing with Steve, before jumping into my relationship with Pietro?" the brunette sounded confused and ashamed of his query and it kicks start Sam's weary mind.

 

He didn't know where this sudden question was coming and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. This was bad, the very thought was and that the idea had been in Bucky's mind was worse. He couldn't let such a thought take root in Bucky's head, it was bad for his mental health and Sam did not want that, not as his former therapist or more importantly as his friend, and he needed the brunette to know that.

 

 

"I'd tell you not to dwell on it now, because that ship has sailed, Bucky. But for your own sanity's sake, no I don't think two relations at the same time was a mistake. Steve is your friend; Pietro is your boyfriend. They are two different relationships, with equal importance. Had you put aside your relationship with Pietro for Steve's sake, then at this moment, you would have been alone. There's no right time for any relationship, Bucky. You meet people at the time you do and you should grab your chances as they come. Pietro is important to you and from the fact that we're on a call at 2 in the morning, I'd say Steve is important to you too. A person in life has different relations with different people and they are all important. One without the other doesn't make any of them better than the other and nobody should have to depend on one relationship for all their needs."

 

"Am I being selfish though? Holding on to both? Leading them on?"

 

"Are you in love with Steve?" he questioned suddenly and he could gear Bucky frown in confusion.

 

"No." he answered, sounding like he was afraid Sam had lost his mind due to lack of sleep.

 

Sam wasn't sure he hadn't. 

 

"Does Steve know about Pietro? Is he okay with it?"

 

"He knows and I think he is okay with it, though he was sceptical I would throw him out. I told him that was never gonna happen and he believed me. Look where we are at now." The alpha mumbled sarcastically and Sam decided to ignore his comment and focus on the main issue.

 

"Then you're not holding on to both. One is a friend; one is something more and you deserve them both. You weren't selfish when you lost an arm in Afghanistan, and you aren't selfish now." He stated firmly and waited for the statement to settle Bucky to agree.

 

"Okay. Thank you, Sam, I really needed this today. Good night and sorry for disturbing you." The brunette added sheepishly and Sam chuckled lightly.

 

"It's okay. You're my friend and I was happy to be there for you. Good night, Bucky."

 

(*)

After Bucky hung up, Sam stared at his phone for a while, mulling the conversation over and over in his head. He couldn't help but feel like he was meddling in something that didn't concern him and he was for sure sticking his head in where he was unwelcome.

 

But the truth was that ever since Joseph made the craziest demand and Steve was forced to agree to it, Sam has been part of Steve and Bucky's relationship. He still remembers Steve's phone call, his recounting of his marriage, the deal with his father and hearing how nice the alpha was.  Sam remembers feeling sceptical, wanting to storm into the guy's place and see him for himself. Remembers the feeling of wanting to play Steve's knight in shining armour. He also remembers Steve's absolutely undeterrable conditions, no sexist bullshit and he remembers promising himself to not upset Steve.

 

He also remembers both Bucky and Steve telling him about Pietro.

 

He's always been part of their relationship whether he wanted to be or not and this night (early morning) was just another part of it.

 

But he knew Steve wasn't Bucky and that his butting in wouldn't be taken kindly to. But he had dealt with Steve Rogers' bullshit for a year and he knew how to handle him.  He pressed call on Steve's contact and waited as the line rang.

 

"Pick up, pick up." He muttered under his breath and sighed in relief when it was picked up and Steve's voice came on from the other side.

 

"What the fuck, Sam? It is freaking two in the morning." The blonde tried to sound sleepy but Sam immediately saw through his bullshit when his voice came out too gruff and he sounded more coherent than he ever did when he was rudely awoken.

 

Steve may have forgotten, but Sam had not forgotten the multiple nights Steve's spent in Sam's apartment, sitting with him on his ratty couch watching stupid blockbusters and eating pizza, keeping him company on a lonely night before falling asleep there. Sam knows what a sleepy Steve Rogers sounds like and this was just not it.

 

"It is three, you freaking asshole and where the fuck are you?" Sam demanded sternly and he heard Steve frown on the other side, a soft sound but enough to let Sam know Steve was gonna bluff his way through this.

 

"What do you mean, where am I? I'm at home, in bed."

 

"At home? With Bucky?" Sam asked, fully knowing Steve was gonna lie and he could catch the guy in that act. There are times he thinks he should've been a goddamn lawyer.

 

"Yeah. But, he's in the other room if you wanna speak to him." Steve replied smoothly and Sam's patience flew out of the window.

 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep both his voice and scent under control and let it out slowly.

 

"Oh, don't worry, I've already spoken to him and surprisingly he was worried about your whereabouts. Funny how he didn't know you were in the adjoining room." He waited for the blonde to say something but Steve went silent on the other side of the line. The only clue that the blonde had not hung up on him was the harsh breathing still coming through and it almost made Sam smile. For once he had rendered Steve speechless and left him stumped.

 

If he had been more coherent and awake, he would definitely document this day.

 

"Sam, I…" the blonde began but Sam didn't give him a chance to complete.

 

"Can it, Rogers. he was just telling me about how angry you were that he lied, but funny how you seem to do it very often to me. Lying is second nature to you at this point, huh?" He interrupted rudely and spoke very sternly, making it very clear to Steve that he wouldn't be taking Steve's shit anymore. He cleared his throat when Steve went silent for a while and it seemed to awaken the blonde from whatever mental abyss he had seemingly fallen into. 

 

 

"I wasn't trying to lie to you. I didn't know what to say." The blonde said after a while and Sam could perfectly see, even from all the distance between them, that he had his eyes closed and his head hung low. The mere thought of Steve's head hung like that and guilt ion those baby blues made Sam feel bad about the way he had ripped into the blonde and he immediately softened his tone.

 

"How about you start by telling me where you are and where did you run off to after the museum?" he asked softly and could hear Steve inhale sharply at that. He waited for the blonde to start talking but he seemed to have started thinking something else again.

 

"Did he tell you about the museum?" he eventually asked, his voice soft in nostalgia and tone doused in surprise. Sam shook his head at his idiot of a friend and acquiesced immediately, not wanting to change tracks again in the conversation.

 

"Yeah. Now start talking, Rogers. No more bullshit."

 

And Steve did. He told Sam about the calls from his mom, how she always told him that they were either at a date or the freaking Grand Canyon or in some other place his father thought was romantic. He told Sam how he had seen his father across the street when they were walking down after lunch when he was supposed to be all the way up in Arizona. He confessed to Sam the shame he felt at being a bad son after seeing his mother and the shiner on her face. The talk with his mother, the showdown with Joseph, the absolutely mind-blowing sucker punch from Sarah and the subsequent crash down at the hotel.

 

After a small pause, where he seemingly mulled over something, Steve exhaled softly and told him about how he ended up back at Bucky's to finish off a ‘beautiful' 24 hours by screaming at Bucky and packing up his bags.

 

"I didn't know what to do with all this, Sam. My mom lied to me a number of times, I find out dad is still the asshole he always was, Bucky hid the fact that he knew about all my bullshit and I just snapped. Stood up to my father, said some very hateful things to my mother and just walked out on Bucky. I didn't know what to do." He sighed softly again and Sam's heart melted for the man.

 

He did understand why Steve did the things he did. It couldn't have been easy to know that your mom had been lying to you or that you had basically given away your life for a deal that hadn't been kept. He couldn't empathise with Steve's pain, the betrayal he felt or even the feeling of helplessness, but he did sympathise with the blonde. But he knew voicing that would get him in a fight with the blonde and that wasn't what he wanted.

 

"Why didn't you call me? I could've helped you, Steve. After everything that you've done for me, payback is fair."

 

"I can't stand any more pity; Sam. James has bestowed enough of that on me already." Sam doesn't point out how this isn't pitying, just help. But he notices the lack of bitterness in Steve statement, despite the content of it. He is expecting the bitterness, the anger, the outburst, but he's not ready for the absolutely tired tone Steve is using.

 

And he knows the reason for it too: James. And that's what he latches on to.

 

"Why do you think James did what he did out of pity? Couldn't it be because he wanted to help you?" he asks, his voice not giving away how dumb he thinks the assumption is, but he knows Steve knows anyway.

 

"He wanted to help me out of pity," Steve answers petulantly and Sam sighs part frustration, part exhaustion.

 

"Steve, I've known James a lot longer than you have. And if it is one thing you and James have in common, it is your utter hatred for pity. Neither of you can stand to take it nor give it. Why you would think such a man is pitying you, is beyond me."

 

"Why else would he help me, Sam? Why would he offer to be my friend, stay married to me despite being together with Pietro? Why would he offer me a place to call home?" Steve asks swiftly and it's like he's listing off things, one after the other.

 

Sam takes a deep breath again and massages his forehead lightly, thinking of a way to make the light shine on Steve's black hole of a head. He takes another deep breath again, holds it for a while and releases it when he feels himself calmer than before.

 

"Did you ever think it might be because he actually likes you? And genuinely wants to be your friend? Did you think that maybe you were not the only one in desperate need of a friend and a home? I hate to bring it up, Steve, but men coming home from war often search for these things without meaning to and I feel Bucky found them in you."

 

"He has Pietro for that. For a friend and home and whatever else he wants." And he finally finds the bitterness he was looking for. The note of something cold, not exactly disgust, but grief, fear. He smiles softly at his friend, who is nothing but afraid of rejection, and drops his tone till its soft and soothing, the one he generally reserves for the vets back at the VA and not his thick-headed friend.

 

"It's not the same and you know it. What a relationship provides and what a friend provides are two different things, Steve. Being in a relationship doesn't mean one doesn't need a friend and vice versa. Everybody can have both a friend and a partner, without one meaning any less than the other. Having Pietro doesn't make your place in his heart any less, Steve, he still cares for you and respects you."

 

"Oh, I'm sure I have a huge place in his heart."

 

Sam rubs his forehand again, an action he does more to give himself some time than due to any real damage to his head and goes about it a little differently.

 

"Did you know Bucky suffers from nightmares? And I'm not talking the mild ones either. I'm talking wake up and not know who you are and where you are nightmares. At the VA we always encourage them to call somebody close to them in case of a nightmare like that, somebody to talk you down, remind you of yourself. Despite suffering them almost every night, he's never once called, because he says that it is a minor thing and nobody deserves to lose sleep over it but him. Yet, he called me today, not to talk about a nightmare but to talk about you. He couldn't sleep because he had no idea where you were or if you were safe. Now, tell me, Steve, would a guy who only pretended to care about you out of pity, call? Would he lose sleep over this?"

 

Steve goes quiet for a while and Sam waits, knowing it can't be an easy to digest information of such magnitude. He gives Steve the time to think, to understand what it means and to see what he's been trying to get Steve to see. And he knows it can't be easy for Steve to see that Bucky cares, used to as he is to people treating him like he means nothing, but he really wants Steve to see he matters.

 

Not just for Bucky, but for Steve himself, he needs to know and understand that there are people in this world who care about him.

 

"No. No, he wouldn't." Steve admits after a while and Sam sighs in relief. But he knows not to celebrate yet, and continues asking Steve questions, tries to show Steve what he has seen: how much Bucky cares about Steve and now, how much Steve cares for him too.

 

"Then why is Bucky losing sleep? Bucky, who has a beautiful boyfriend he could be having fun with at night, is instead worried sick about you. Tell me, Steve, why is that?"

 

"Because he genuinely cares," Steve admits in a whisper and Sam thanks his lucky stars for it.

 

"And why is that?"

 

"I'm his friend."

 

"I couldn't hear you." He grins as he speaks and he knows Steve can hear it because he can hear the blonde's smile when he answers.

 

"Because I'm his friend."

 

"Bingo! So, now what are you going to do?" he questions excitedly and Steve outright laughs at him.

 

"Go see him tomorrow and apologise." He phrases it like a question but Sam knows it's more to tease him anything else. He nods before realising Steve can't see him and then continues in a more subdued tone.

 

"You have nothing to apologise for, Steve. But maybe it's time you guys drop these charades and start being honest with each other. So far all these lies have only hurt you."

 

"Yeah. Yeah, we will. Thanks, Sam. You're an amazing friend." Steve admits and Sam smiles shyly.

 

He considers saying goodbye and hanging up before his brain reboots with a start. There's no way this was this easy, there's no way Steve Rogers is just gonna agree with him and decide that Bucky's deception was not pity and apologise to him. It was never this easy with Steve and he didn't think one day away from Bucky was gonna make Steve a saint.

 

"Wait a minute, why is this so easy? Since when do you give up so easy? Steve, I hope you aren't just agreeing to this because you don't actually plan to go over to Bucky's tomorrow. This better not be another lie to get rid of me, Steve." his voice took on a hard edge as the thought crossed his mind, but he didn't relent even as he heard Steve huff a small laugh on the other side.

 

"No. I am not lying to you. I know you're right, Sam. Bucky isn't the only one who has lost sleep today. Maybe it was pity, maybe not, but I'm not sure I am any angrier at him than I am at myself. I should've been honest from the start." The blonde admits with a soft sigh and Sam feels bad forever assuming bad about him. He closes his eyes for a second and opens them only when he knows he's got the right questions to ask this time.

 

"If you're not sure it's pity, then why did you walk out, Steve? Why give him all that shit? And why wouldn't you pick up his call?"

 

"I had to leave because I had no reason to stay anymore, Sam. First, it was that dad forced us to get married, then it was that mom would get in trouble. Now, dad's not there, mom's safe and I'm out of a reason to continue living in his house. And…" Steve didn't complete the sentence, left it hanging in the silence between them. Sam could hear the embarrassment in the unspoken words, see how badly it had affected Steve and the absolute effort it took for him to even get till there.

 

He didn't want to push, didn't want Steve to feel further embarrassment, but some words couldn't be left unspoken. 

 

"And leaving's always easier when in anger than otherwise." He completes the blonde's statement and hears him sigh on the other end.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Jesus! You're a child, Rogers: emotionally constipated and never using your words. Did you ever think where you were gonna go? You walked out of two houses with your mother and no plan, Steve. What were you thinking?" Frustration gives way to exasperation and he slumps down in bed, weariness seeping into his very core from the worry coursing through his body. He doesn't have any right to be angry at Steve, but he's worried and tired and the exhaustion is finding an outlet in anger.

 

He took his own advice, inhaled deeply an exhaled it after holding it for a couple of seconds. He felt his pulse slow down but the stale tinge in his scent stayed the same, still worried beyond relief.

 

"That I could do this on my own. I don't need handouts, Sam. I can look after my mom and I." Steve wasn't yelling but his voice spoke in calm anger. He was challenging Sam, daring him to offer advice to the contrary, contradict Steve claims and Sam knew it. He didn't rise up to the bait, but he came pretty damn close.

 

"I am not giving you a handout, I'm questioning your decisions because so far you've got nothing to show for it. I know you don't like me pointing it out, but your mom and you are omegas, Steve, and I don't need to spell out to you the dangers that lurk in every corner for an omega. I'm not trying to alphasplain your dangers, but you know what I'm talking about. Think about it, are you gonna be okay without a roof over your head?" he could hear Steve's frustration on the other side: the rustle of sheets and the pitter patter of feet burning a hole in the carpet. He could hear Steve's breathing patterns change and knew that he would soon have to talk the omega down from possibly causing an asthma attack.

 

It was the last thing either of them wanted, even if Sam would be the only one to voice it.

 

"We can look after ourselves, Sam. We can take care of ourselves. We're at a hotel and I'm sure they have a good enough security system and some standards for their guests."

 

"And when you go into heat? Will the hotel take care of that too? Of the rabid alphas?" he challenges in return and hears Steve go quiet at the other end.

 

He isn't trying to scare Steve, but the blonde did need somebody reminding him time and again about his own needs. He didn't want Steve getting hurt and no matter how civilised the hotel was, Sam did not trust every person walking in and he knew Steve didn't either. He was looking out for his friend, he reminded himself, and not trying to scare him off.

 

"I…Sam…" the omega hesitated and Sam hurried to console him, save him from having to continue in that pathetic tone.

 

"Go home, Steve and you know which one I'm referring to. Don't put yourself in danger, please."

 

"And what? He will just take us in?" the omega rebuffs and Sam smiles softly into the darkness of his bedroom.

 

"Without pity and without feeling sorry. He'll take you guys in because he cares about you and wants you safe." he's got no doubts about it. Bucky will accept them, not just Steve but Sarah too. He'll welcome them both home with open arms and wide smiles and he is confident about it.

 

"I don't…I don't like handouts and people feeling sorry for me, Sam. I've never handled being handled and I don't think I could do it now." Steve confesses in a small voice and Sam is reminded of how young the blonde still is and what all atrocities he has experienced in such a short time. They say your experiences age you; hardships mature you beyond your age, but Sam had never believed them till he had seen Steve. Steve, a 20-year man, mature far beyond his age and yet too pure for the life he had led.

 

"This is not a handout but if it feels like one to you, you could always pay him rent for staying at his place. Don't take charity, but do except help. There's nothing wrong with taking help from friends who care about you."

 

"Thank you, Sam. You're like my guardian angel." The words were nothing above a breathy whisper and Sam chuckled softly, his eyes slipping closed from exhaustion now. He yawned softly and he heard Steve huff a smile at the other end.

 

"I know. Now please hang up, I've got to up in less than an hour and a half."

 

"Good night, Sam."

 

"Good night, Steve." he hung up the call and looked at the bedside clock again. Fluorescent green letters blinked back at him, and he groaned at their smug look. He had to be up in an hour and a half and he hadn't even slept all that well.

 

He could already tell how the rest of his day was gonna go. He was going to be running on no sleep and no coffee and it was going to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day with minimum sleep and maximum work.

Notes:

Reconciliation, here we come :))))

Chapter 17: Welcome Home, Boys

Summary:

The Reconciliation

Notes:

Yes, the update is late. But, I have two excuses:

1. I am a stubborn asshole who never apologises and hence doesn't know how to do it.

2. I was writing another story. It took more time than I anticipated and it messed up my schedule.

PS: If anybody wants to read it, I'll be putting a link at the end.

22nd March 2020

 

Steve stood in front of the place he had once called home, hesitating and rethinking. He raised his hand towards the bell multiple times but he couldn't bring himself to ring it even once. He took a deep breath, centered himself and lifted his hand to ring the bell again. He rang before he could chicken out again and immediately jumped back from the front step and onto the porch.

 

The urge to run coursed through him but he stamped it down. He wasn't going to put this off. He owed James an apology and he was going to do it. Steve Rogers did not run away from anything.

 

Not even the shame of standing at the doorstep of a man he had utterly humiliated himself in front of and then lashed out at.

 

"Steve…" James' eyes bulged out of his head as he opened the door and he blinked several times to make sure he was not dreaming. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times but no sound came out. He just stood there on the porch, staring at Steve as Steve hesitantly met his gaze.

 

James didn't look like he had slept a wink in the past few days. His eyes were red and accentuated by the black around them, his hair was standing in all directions like he had tossed and turned all night and his face lacked the glow it always had. His movements had a novel lethargy to it and it twisted the knife already embedded deep in Steve's gut.

 

 "Hey, James. May I come in?" he asked with a hesitant smile and James started as if he had just woken up from a stupor.

 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I just didn't think you'd come back." He moved aside to let Steve in and closed the door as soon as they stepped inside. He turned towards Steve with a smile but Steve didn't smile back.

 

"I came back for my stuff." He said instead and Bucky's smile immediately dropped from his face. He stepped back immediately and gestured towards the drawing room with his thumb.

 

"Oh. I'll get out of your way then."

 

Before he could walk away from the omega, Steve grabbed his hand and stopped him. The alpha turned to look at Steve with a confused noise and inquisitive eyes and Steve met his gaze with an apologetic smile.

 

"James, I was kidding. It was a bad joke, sorry." He dropped the alpha's hand and dropped his gaze to the ground, unable to handle the guilt that stabbed at him every time he looked into James' exhausted eyes. Confusion still lingered in them and it was no surprise to Steve when Bucky took some time to frame his next question.

 

"Oh. Then why are you here?"

 

"Would you believe me if I said it was to apologise?" he raised his eyes to look at the alpha and was met with the blankest expression he had ever seen on James' expressive face. He tried sniffing the air to get a read on the alpha's emotions but the alpha's scent was neutral, unlike his slightly guilty and embarrassed vanilla.

 

"For what?" James asked him and for the first time, Steve heard the hope in his voice. His eyes shone a little and a little tiredness left his face.

 

"For screaming at you, walking out, ignoring your calls, overall just being a horrible human being." Steve clarified and James nodded. He walked into the living room and Steve followed. He gestured for Steve to sit on the couch and turned towards him with a small smile.

 

"Then I guess it's going to be a long one. I better put on coffee and tea."

 

"Thank you."

 

James smiled at him as he walked towards the kitchen and for the first time since he walked up to James' house, Steve was sure they were gonna be okay.

 

(*)

 

They sit on the couch, both on either end nursing their tea and coffee, sipping in silence and not meeting each other's eyes. It is not comfortable in any sense, too many unsaid words hanging in the air around them but Steve's glad that their scents are at least calmer than they were a while back. Even James' previously forced-neutral scent had finally stepped out of its bounds and was circling Steve's own with little doubt and some guilt of its own.

 

It's long after Steve's cup has gone empty that James speaks.

 

"Do you want me to start?" he questions softly, turning his body towards Steve and setting his cup down. His eyes are hopeful again and Steve mirrors his action by turning his body towards the brunet and placing his cup down. When he looks back at James, he knows his own eyes are a little happy and mirroring the hope in James' eyes. 

 

"James, you've got nothing to apologise for. You've been so kind and understanding and I thanked you for it by screaming at you. I'm the asshole who should apologise."

 

"That's not true. I played a part in deceiving you and not's fair. I let you go on lying about something you shouldn't have had to in the first place. I owe you an apology and I am not going to let you martyr yourself out of that. Understand?" James questions softly and Steve huffs a laugh at the brunet.

 

"I guess. But let me go first, I've got a lot more to apologise then you do." he shrugs and Bucky snorts in amusement. He shakes his head at the omega and collects both their cups of the table.

 

"It's not a competition, Steve, jeez, type A much?" he asks as he crosses the couch to put the cups in the kitchen and the blonde good-naturedly rolls his eyes with a smile.

 

"I am not apologising for that. Type A is who I am and I wear that badge with pride."

 

"Of course, you do." the alpha agrees from the kitchen and they both chuckle at that.

 

Bucky makes his way back to the kitchen and Steve can still see him wear a grin that mirrors his own.

 

And it's very tempting to leave the whole discussion at that. They're both smiling, laughing and joking with each other. They're both obviously over whatever fight they were having. Steve knows it's not over until they discuss the whole issue, talk it out, apologies, but it seems more appealing to leave the discussion and to just pick up their friendship where they left off. James' obviously not got any hard feelings towards Steve. He's cracked jokes, even better ones than Steve has, he's laughed along with Steve, made fun of him and invited him back with a cup of amazing black coffee. Rehashing and opening old wounds at this point sounds like a mistake and Steve's not entirely convinced he wants to do that.

 

Maybe they can leave their entire argument in the past. Maybe they can move past it without acknowledging it. Maybe they don't have to talk about it.

 

He looks over at James and sees him looking back at Steve. He's giving Steve an out and Steve knows it. He's leaving it up to the blonde to decide if he wants to go through with the whole apologising thing. And if Steve was unsure before, he knows for sure the moment he looks at James. He needs to apologise. He was wrong in how he handled the situation and he knows it and it's his duty to apologise. And he's going to, because, James deserves it. Kind, gentle, compassionate James deserves a goddamn apology for the way Steve has treated him and he's going to get one.

 

"I am sorry, James. I'm sorry for lying to you about my horrible father, I'm sorry for screaming at you and storming out. I'm sorry for not picking up your calls and for not letting you know where I was and that I was safe. I am sorry for thinking you were like all other knot-head alphas and for walking out on you and not giving you a chance to explain. I have no excuses to make for myself and putting the blame on you for everything was and is a cowardly move and I'm not going to resort to it. Please, tell me how I can make it better and I will. I repent my actions but please let me atone for it too."

 

He doesn't mention that he was angry at James for what his father had done to his mother. It hadn't been Bucky's fault but Steve had treated it as such because otherwise the only person he can blame is himself and he's not ready to get into that just yet. That self-bashing can come later, in the dark of the night under the safety of his blanket.

 

"Steve, I genuinely don't feel like you have anything to atone for or even repent. We both get equal blame in this. I had no reason to keep my knowledge of your affairs a secret and neither should I have hidden my encounter with your father. You had a right to know these things by my own condition that we tell each other things that concern the other, and I didn't tell you. I broke a prerequisite condition of our marriage and you shouldn't be the one apologising for it." the alpha implores and he shifts a little closer to the blonde. He looks into Steve's eyes as he speaks but Steve finds it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. He shifts uncomfortably on the couch and looks anywhere but at James, as he speaks- confesses.

 

"James…going by that very condition, when have I been honest with you? I told you this marriage wouldn't happen. I think it's safe to go as far as to say that I promised you that we wouldn't have to get married to each other. I told you I could handle my father and I broke that promise. And I didn't even tell you the truth about that. I lied to you at the coffee shop and I lied to you every day after that. You may have kept quiet about a few details, but I straight up lied to you about them. I had no room to accuse you of lying when I've been doing it ever since we met. Let me make amends. Please." He looks at the alpha as he pleads the last word and James nods, a minute movement, as he thinks deeply.

 

"You could always tell me why. Why did you lie, Steve? Why did you think lying to me was better than being honest and straightforward?" he asks after a while and Steve knew this was coming.

 

He was prepared to answer this, prepared to tell James the whole truth. He was sure it wasn't going to be easy, he wasn't even sure he would be able to, but the moment he looks into James' soft grey eyes, the moment he gets a sniff of the air that smells like hope and a little concern, he knows this is going to be the easiest confession of his life.

 

"I don't like getting pitied. Every time anybody has realised that my mom and I aren't the happiest people in the world, they've always taken to coddling and pitying us. Mrs. Gerrish, our next-door neighbour, Mrs. Pattinson, my teacher, Dr. Harris, everybody thinks we need somebody to look after us and spoon feed us because we're omegas. My mom and I don't need pity, hell we didn't need help either. We could get by just fine by ourselves but they never agreed. Omegas need help, omegas don't survive alone, omegas are made to be taken care of, all bullshit that one could possibly hear, we've heard. I couldn't stand it if you would've jumped in to play my knight in shining armour if you knew. I don't need you to be my muscle or a knight in shining armour, James, just being my friend was fine and I thought hiding the truth about my father would do that. Guess that backfired." He added bitterly and turned away from kind grey eyes.

 

James didn't say anything for a while and Steve had to turn back to look at him. The alpha was staring intently at the carpet, searching for answers to questions Steve didn't know in the woven cloth, and it wasn't till Steve started shifting uncomfortably on the couch that Bucky broke out of his reverie.

 

"When I saw your father at the supermarket, I didn't fight for your honour as you seem to think. I respected your father a lot, Steve, he was like a father to me too. He adored me when we served together in Afghanistan and he loved me so much he jumped in front of a bullet for me. He saved my life and I worshipped him for it, saluted him despite him being my junior in command." The alpha lifted his head to lock eyes with Steve then and the omega didn't shy away from it this time. He moved closer to James as the alpha stopped and placed a hesitant hand on his tanned hand.

 

The touch seemed to spur James on.

 

 "They say never meet your heroes and that is what happened when I came to meet Joseph. My hero was a bigoted piece of shit who loved me for the sole reason that I was an alpha who had served with him. Had I been an omega, he would've never loved me, he wouldn't have saved my life, hell! he wouldn't even have given me an ounce of respect. All I did to deserve a place in his good books was present as an alpha. Just knowing that broke me. I felt so ashamed for not seeing the kind of man he was and for ever respecting a man like that. Such men don't deserve respect, they deserve a boot to the face and ass. When I saw him at the supermarket, he called me his son and all my frustration just broke out. I was his son because I was an alpha and nothing else. I did stand up for you but it was more to see him get angry than to ‘protect your honour'. I just wanted to hurt him; I didn't know it would end up hurting you too."

 

They both sit quietly in the aftermath of the confession; James having said his piece and Steve not knowing how to react to it. There are so many things Steve ought to say here: about how Sarah suffered the consequences of James' outburst, about how he should've thought before he spoke and how he just suffered weeks of what Steve went through for years of his life. He should say all those things but he doesn't say any.

 

Because James didn't know Joseph would hurt Sarah on his behalf. Because James didn't know how cruel Joseph could be. Because James didn't know that Joseph was the worst piece of scum to walk the earth and it wasn't his fault Joseph handled his insecurities and fears by lashing out on others.

 

Much like Steve had done, he self-reflects bitterly. 

 

"Why didn't you tell me you knew all this about me? Why didn't you tell me I was making a fool of myself all this time?" he asks after a while, his hand still a spot of warmth over James' hand. The alpha doesn't seem to mind, so Steve leaves it there, for his own strength.

 

 

"You weren't ready to talk, Steve. It doesn't take a genius to know you'd rather keep all this to yourself than ever talk about this, and I didn't want you to walk out on me because I forced you to talk about something you didn't like. I understand when you say you can't stand pity, I can't either. And trust me as a vet with only one human arm, I've seen a lot of pity. Even the barista at the coffee shop would offer to give me tea on the house every time he saw me." he laughs bitterly in self-pity and Steve decides that the morbid mood had gone on long enough.

 

He rubs little circles on James' hand till the alpha looks at him and then proceeds to keep a straight face as he speaks. 

 

"Maybe it's not the arm, you know, it's the face. Even I would take pity on a guy born with a face like that." He gestures to James' objectively beautiful face and throws in a wink for good measure. The alpha laughs like it's forced out of him and then continues laughing till tears appear in the corner of his eyes. Steve joins him because his laugh is infectious and also because the blush on his cheeks is too adorable.

 

"Anyway, the point remains that I've never treated you with any pity, Steve. Whatever I've ever done, I've done because I genuinely like you and I would really like to be your friend." James adds after he's calmed down and the mood is light but not somber.

 

"The friendship, the promise of home, were they not piteous? Did you mean them? Even if I would've been just Steve Rogers and not Steve Rogers, son of Joseph Rogers?"

 

"My friendship and our home is only for Steve Rogers and not for Steve Rogers, son of Joseph the asshole," James states with conviction and it's Steve's chance to blush and nod.

 

He doesn't deserve this guy and he knows it. Doesn't deserve his friendship, his companionship, his forgiveness and above all a place in his home. But he's got to ask, not for himself but for his mother, for their safety. It feels an awful lot like taking advantage, coming back and apologising when he needs a place to crash and he hopes James doesn't see it that way. He doesn't know what he will do if James thinks like that, but he has to ask.

 

Because he knows his decision to apologise to James was not based on a need for shelter, it still is not. Even if James says they can't live here, Steve would understand, wouldn't even berate him for it, because he knows he fucked up. But he needs to ask, he needs to know what James has to say and for that, he needs to say the words out loud. Ask James for a place in his home. 

 

"I…May I…the house…home…" he splutters and stutters and James watches with a small smile as Steve struggles. After watching in amusement for a while he opens his mouth and Steve thinks he's gonna help him.

 

"I'm waiting, Steve and I'm not getting any younger." He doesn't help and Steve rolls his eyes at James' effort.

 

"Oh, you fucking asshole! You know what I'm asking. Help me out here."

 

"Then you're gonna say it's pity. I'm not taking any chances." The brunet answers with a grin and Steve's answer is to pout.

 

"James…" he whines childishly and James' attention snaps to his face. The brunet narrows his eyes at the blonde and Steve pulls back a little at the serious look on the alpha's face.

 

"Why have you been calling me James?"

 

"You said your friends call you James and I wasn't sure that after my performance last night, I was still a friend," Steve admits with a soft sigh and he feels James move closer to him on the couch. The brunet places his metal arm on the hand Steve's got resting on his flesh arm and moves it so he's holding both of Steve's hands in his own. He waits till Steve looks up from their joined hands to his face and smiles ruefully at the young blonde.

 

"Of course, Stevie, you're still my friend. Till the day you explicitly tell me you don't want to be." He tells him softly and a huge weight lifts itself off Steve's chest. He smiles with barely concealed relief and he sees Bucky's smile soften in turn.

 

The alpha cradles Steve's hand in his own and it gives Steve the push he needed to ask the question he wanted.

 

"Can I have my room back, Buck? And I want to pay rent for it too because I don't like the idea of being indebted to anybody." He asks it all in one hurried breath and barely catches his breath back before Bucky's eyebrows are reaching his hairline.

 

"You've been living here for weeks, Stevie, why are you asking again?"

 

"My mom punched Joseph in the face and walked out. She…" he hesitates and Bucky rushes in to fill the silence.

 

"Well, finally I can put that third bedroom to good use. But, I'm gonna warn you, Steve, you're helping me clean it. And please, Sarah's rent is on me." he states and Steve's shakes his head immediately.

 

"Buck, I can't ask you to do that."

 

"Steve, the last time I saw her, she asked me to call her ma. And what kind of son charges rent from his ma?" he questions with soft eyes and a softer smile and it makes Steve's breath catch for different reasons.

 

Sarah asked Bucky to call her ma? He had always had a suspicion when his mom had disappeared at the courthouse but now he knows where she was. He can feel a hysterical laugh bubble inside him and he fights hard to control it. His ma…she had always been smarter than him for sure. And she had always looked out for him too.

 

The second reason…Bucky Barnes…

 

"She did, huh? She works faster than me," he admits with a self-deprecating smile and Bucky smiles wider in return.

 

"Yeah, she does."

 

They sit in companionable silence for a while, hand in hand before Bucky takes a deep breath and draws Steve's attention towards him. The smile he gives Steve lacks his normal confidence and Steve invariable draws a deep breath of his own in return.

 

The tinge of worry in dark chocolate scent does not sit right with him.

 

"Steve, there was another thing I needed to talk to you about."

 

"Should I be worried?" he asks with a small chuckle, his failed attempt at diffusing the tension that seems to have settled between them again, but Bucky shakes his head, the smile on his face disappearing completely.

 

"No, I think you'd be happy. It's about the divorce. I think it's time we end this, right? Joseph's out of the picture, Sarah's safe, you're happy, and the deal is off. I think it's finally time to end our pretend marriage."

 

And Steve stops breathing.

 

He knows they were not married in the conventional sense. He knows they were going to go down this road sooner rather than later. He knows he's the one who demanded the divorce yesterday, gave the same goddamn reasons. He knows Bucky's right and it's the right thing to do. He knows they should do it; he knows they need to split, he knows, he knows, he knows…

 

He knows every goddamn reason it's the right thing to do but he doesn't know why his heart aches at the mere thought of separation.

 

He was never together with Bucky in the first place. They were not a couple; they were never anything beyond friends. Then why does the thought of being divorced from Bucky hurting him so? Why is the fear of separation, of distance, hurting him so much?

 

Even though they're still gonna be living together after the divorce, it hurts and Steve doesn't want to know why anymore…

 

"Buck…is this about what I said yesterday?" he asks eventually, burying his own confusing thoughts inside and concentrating on the alpha's tensed face.

 

"Partly. We started this wrong. People start as friends and some make their way towards marriage but we did it in reverse. It's time to start fresh, Steve, no more blurred lines and half-assed relations. And this time, I wanna do it right. I want us to be honest with each other, Stevie. What do you think?"

 

"I think…it's a good idea, Buck. Let's do that. Let's get divorced and start fresh." He gives the brunet a smile that feels plastic on his face and sees a relieved and completely genuine smile stretch across Bucky's face.

 

"You know, Natasha's pretty good at setting people up if you're interested? It doesn't even take her much time. It's like she carries around a book with people she can set everybody up with. Pretty sure your name is on the list." Bucky tells him playfully and Steve shakes his head with a rueful smile.

 

"Thanks for the offer, Buck, but no. I've just escaped my abusive father; I've got to find a place for my mom and myself and I'm not feeling like the best version of myself lately. I don't think this is an ideal time for me to date. Let me get back on my feet, find a place for my ma and I, work on myself first, then we'll see about a relationship. And not to forget, I'm also going to be going through a divorce soon, it's not going to be easy."

 

"Steve, I didn't mean to spring the divorce on top of everything else. I genuinely thought it was something you wanted and I… we don't have to if you wanna wait. I'm in no hurry, Stevie, whatever works best for you."

 

And isn't that just twisting the knife? Even after everything Steve's sprung on him, Bucky's worried about displeasing him. Steve's the one who demanded the divorce, who walked out on him, gave him sleepless nights, but trust Bucky to still make sure Steve's happy and comfortable.

 

And he wants to hate that. He wants to hate the fact that the alpha is so thoughtful, so considerate, so…good, but he can't, he doesn't. After growing up with his father, an absolute asshole of an alpha, who mistreated his mother and him just for being omegas, getting to know an alpha like Bucky was surprising. What had started out as Steve's wonderment about a non-bigoted alpha has now become Steve's amazement at Bucky.

 

"Don't get too attached, Steve. You don't have a place in that dream and that dream did not end with you. James still wants that and you should remind yourself of that. Don't fall where there's no one to catch you."

 

Sam's words echo in his head and Steve shakes the thoughts away. He's not falling. He's not attached. Bucky is just another friend like Sam is and Steve knows that. There's something special about Bucky, but he's not special to Steve.

 

 

"No, no, Buck. I asked for it, didn't I? That was a joke. It's important that we get rid of these blurred lines between us and start fresh, right at the beginning. And you have Pietro, so you can't say there's no rush." He says it to remind himself more so than Bucky.

 

Pietro and blurred lines. Lines Steve can't cross, won't cross.

 

"Stevie, Pietro is in no hurry to get married and neither am I. I wanna enjoy our relationship a little and also, I've got a friend I've to educate. Dude hasn't even seen Brooklyn 99 yet. Total dork!" Bucky says in an exaggerated whisper and Steve forgets all about his inner dilemmas in the face of the teasing.

 

"Fuck you too, Barnes." He shoves at the alpha and the alpha doubles over in laughter.

 

"I never said it was you. Did you just assume you're the dork? Are you a dork?"

 

"Blah, blah, blah." Steve poorly imitates Bucky and makes exaggerated faces at the brunet. Bucky pulls out his phone from his pocket and holds it in front of Steve's face, his eyes still watery from laughing and scent like freshly made chocolate.

 

"Very mature, Stevie, very mature. Do it again so I can show it to Sam too."

 

"Shut up," Steve grumbles good-naturedly and Bucky puts the phone down. He moves a little closer to Steve and drops his voice a little low.

 

"It's just a suggestion and you don't have to take it if you don't want to, but maybe a therapist would help you feel like the best version of yourself and help deal with the issues your father left behind. Not just for you, but ma too, Stevie. You both have suffered years of abuse and therapy would be a healthy way to deal with it. If you're averse to therapy, at least talk to Sam. He's a perfect two in one, friend and therapist option. It's just a suggestion, you're free to take it or leave it."

 

"I'll think about it," Steve tells him even though he knows he's not going. He can't sit in therapy and dwell on his feelings, not when he has spent a lifetime suppressing them. His thoughts are his greatest enemies and Steve's not going to open the many, many can of worms he's buried deep inside himself. It's a risk he's not willing to take.

 

But Sarah…he wants his mom to go. He wants her to talk about all she has gone through and find her peace. He wants her to be happy and finally free of the mental shackles her husband has put her in all these years. He wants her to fight her demons in the care of somebody who knows how to help her.

 

He'll talk to her about it and he will convince her to go. For her own sake…  

 

"Okay." Bucky replies and something in his tone tells Steve he knows that Steve is never going to therapy. But he doesn't push and Steve's once again beyond grateful to him.

 

He doesn't know what comes over him, what happens then, but he launches himself into Bucky's arms. The brunet catches him immediately, his own arms wrapping around Steve's bony back as the omega clutches the back of his t-shirt and buries his face in Bucky's chest.

 

"Buck…thank you. For everything you've done and everything, you're doing. I don't know how to thank you and just saying it is probably not enough but it's all I got." He barely holds back tears as he thanks the alpha and tightens his hold on his shirt.

 

"Welcome home, Stevie," Bucky tells him softly and a wet chuckle escapes Steve without his permission.

 

He knows Bucky means the house, maybe his company, maybe both. But home to Steve, at that moment, feels a lot like Bucky's arms…

 

"It's good to be back."

 

"Steve, if you don't know how to thank me, you could always draw me like your French girl." Bucky teases him softly and Steve's so glad he doesn't prolong the heavy moment. He laughs into Bucky's t-shirt and doesn't let go even as he curses the brunet.

 

"Fuck you, Barnes. Fuck you."

 

"You wish you could, Stove." The alpha ribs back and Steve doesn't find solace in the fact that he's starting to actually wish so…

Notes:

Stevie's in love and denial. My favorite combo 😜

My new fic 👇
All of Me, Loves All of You

 

It's a Stucky one shot with ace Steve and gay Bucky with unhealthy amounts of angst and nicknames

Chapter 18: Pancakes and Boys, Together Make Chaos

Summary:

Just a regular day at the Barnes residence. Pancakes, banter and Sarah questioning her life choices.

Notes:

This is mostly just a filler chapter but it was fun to write.

 

IMPORTANT:
STUCKY IS THE ENDGAME AND IT IS GONNA BE A MONOGAMOUS RELATIONSHIP. IT'S JUST A REALLY SLOW BURN :)

25th March 2020

Sarah wasn't expecting anybody in the kitchen till about another 15 minutes. She took a sip from her coffee, smiled and hummed to herself as she moved about the kitchen. Bucky had told her to stay out of the kitchen, requested her even, but she had refused his offers. She was already living in his home; she couldn't make him do all the work too.

 

She mixed the pancake batter while humming to herself and almost missed the boy entering the kitchen, wiping remaining sleep from barely open eyes and hair a hornet's nest.

 

"Good morning, Mrs. Rogers. I hope you slept well." Pietro wished her as he sat down at the table and she smiled at the well-mannered kid.

 

She had been a little surprised, maybe a little appalled when Bucky had introduced Pietro as his boyfriend but a small chat with the beta had put all her doubts and questions to rest. She already knew about the terms and conditions of Steve marriage with Bucky, but she wasn't sure about Pietro as a match for the alpha. But he proved her wrong spectacularly.

 

He was sweet and soft spoken, well mannered and respectful, good looking and equally charming. She could see why Bucky was taken with him and she could also see herself start to really love the boy.

 

"How many times do I have to tell you, Pietro, that's its either Sarah or ma? Call me Mrs. Rogers again and you can forget the pancakes." She shook a wooden spoon at him, a mock stern expression on her face and lips pursed and he immediately seemed a lot more awake and excited.

 

"There's pancakes for breakfast? That's amazing Mr- Sarah. Now that's a good morning!" he cheered enthusiastically and Sarah laughed softly at the boy's eagerness.

 

"I am glad you think so, Pietro. There's coffee for you if you drink that."

 

"Of course. I'm no ET like Bucky," he replied with a wink and made his way to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and was immediately back in his seat, slumped down on the table and cradling the cup like it was something precious.

 

Sarah could hardly hold back the fondness in her eyes.

 

"Good morning, ma. Hello, Pietro. Wow! You look dead on your feet." Steve commented as soon as he entered the kitchen and Sarah sighed exasperatedly at her rude son. Steve gave her a little kiss, a half-assed apology, as he made his way to the coffee pot and poured himself a tall cup of the brew. 

 

"I could sleep for another two years and it won't be enough. I'm only here for the pancakes." Pietro grumbled from his spot at the table and Steve laughed as he made his way over.

 

"A fellow coffee enthusiast, I see. I was so worried you'd be like Bucky. Tea only." He mimicked the brunet at the end and both the blondes chuckled at that.

 

"The one fatal flaw. But it's good, you know, otherwise, he might've been unstoppable. Doesn't even drink coffee and is still out running. I think he's secretly ET." Pietro stage whispers to Steve and Steve leans down conspiringly, his voice pitched dramatically low. 

 

"You know what, that might actually help explain some peculiarities. Goes running at ass o clock in the morning, doesn't drink tea, is too decent a human being and such."

 

"Too handsome too. And can speak more than one language."  Pietro adds as he downs the last dregs of his coffee and Steve leans forward in his seat in excitement.

 

"He speaks more than one language? Which language?" he asks in a hurry, his voice hurried in excitement, and Sarah shakes her head at the two boys.

 

Seeing Steve with Pietro makes her heart hurt a little. Steve's obviously having fun with the younger blonde, likes him too and it makes Sarah fill with guilt about never having given her son a sibling to play with. Steve's good with kids, has always been. She's seen him babysit the neighborhood kids, has seen him fiercely protect the younger kids on the playground, has seen him stand up for every baby when she got pregnant but never had them. She's seen him shed tears for every sibling he's lost and love the next one equally as fiercely.

 

She never stood up for them the way he did and they both paid the price for it. For too long too.

 

"Да. Ich spreche vier Sprachen. Anglais, français, Russe et allemande." Bucky's voice comes from the entryway and she's brutally snatched from her terrible thoughts. She shakes her head to clear it and smiles at the stunned faces both the blondes at the table make.

 

"Good morning ma, Stevie, sunshine. You guys talking about me again? I'm flattered." He smirks at them both and makes his way to Sarah with a plate.

 

"Please don't be. We don't need you getting a bigger head than you already do." Steve quips from the table and Sarah fixes her son with a glare that he promptly chooses to ignore.

 

"James has got a perfect sized head on equally perfect shoulders. Have some pancakes, dear." She puts some pancakes on to his plate and he smiles his most charming smile at her.

 

"Thank you, ma. You're the best." He pecks her cheek and sits down at the table, next to Pietro. Sarah turns back to make more pancakes when Steve's incredulous voice comes through.

 

"Betrayed by my own mother! Et tu, ma?"

 

"And what did I do, Steve?" she questions him with barely concealed mirth and hears him splutter disbelievingly.

 

"Pietro and I came before him. Why's he getting pancakes before us?"

 

"Don't worry about it, Steve. That's just the way it is. All women love him, young, old, dead. It's just the way the world is. You get used to it after some time." Pietro tells him in a weary tone and Sarah starts chuckling at how put upon the young boy sounds with all of Bucky's charmed women. She's laughing but she still doesn't miss the way Bucky leans closer to Pietro and croons lovingly in his ear.

 

"Only the women huh, sweetheart? What about you?" he asks sweetly and Sarah strains to hear Pietro's reply but it gets overshadowed by Steve's voice.

 

"You hear that, ma? You're not the first and you won't be the last again." He tells her with all the conviction of a public prosecutor accusing a convict and she sighs at Steve's conviction. She turns around to raise a questioning eyebrow at Bucky but the brunet just gives her a confident smile in return.

 

"Women may come and women may go, but ma is forever. Aren't I right, ma?" he asks her with a smile and she smiles fondly at the alpha.

 

There are things she can read on Bucky's face, things he's searching for and things she knows he desperately needs. She can see how much he wants a mother, needs the motherly love and affection, craves the soft rebuke and tender discipline. She can see how he lost his parents' too young, can still see a teenager who's lost and alone. Steve can question her partial treatment of Bucky, can question why she's so charmed by him, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him. And she's not gonna be the one to tell him all that she sees.

 

Bucky needs a mother and as long as Sarah's around, he was gonna have one.

 

"Of course, Bucky. Steve, stop whining. Here are your pancakes." She puts a plate in front of Steve and another in front of Pietro and ruffles their hair as she does so. They both give her matching smiles and she returns the action in kind.

 

"That's not even how the poem goes. Thanks, ma."

 

"Nerd." Bucky retorts as Steve stuffs a pancake in his mouth and Steve glares at the brunet till he swallows his mouthful.

 

"Fuck you." He finally replies as his mouth is cleared enough to speak and she sees Pietro wrinkle his nose when Steve speaks with his mouth still full.

 

"Steve, language." Sarah admonishes gently as she flips another pancake and she hears Bucky join her from the table.

 

"Yeah, Steve, language. There's a lady present."

 

"Oh, you demon! As if you aren't a potty-mouthed jerk."

 

"Me? Never!" the brunet even splays his hand on his chest for extra dramatic effect and Sarah joins Steve and Pietro as they laugh at the comedic expression on Bucky's face.

 

"Jerk!" Steve whispers fondly. "By the way, why didn't you wake me? I thought we were going walking together." He questions as he puts another bite into his mouth and Bucky waits till he swallows his own mouthful before he replies.

 

"I did try to wake you but you were sleeping like the dead. Apparently, it's ‘sleep till the cows come home day' in the under 21 city."

 

"Oh, screw you!" Steve retorts immediately and Pietro starts laughing from where he's sitting at Bucky's side.

 

Bucky turns to Pietro with an adorable pout but Pietro doesn't stop laughing, even as he gives Bucky's a small kiss on the forehead.

 

"How does he manage to make us feel bad about being young?" Steve questions Pietro as the blonde manages to calm himself and the younger blonde leans forward in his seat and lowers his voice.

 

"It's because he's ET."

 

Steve laughs as Sarah gets herself a plate and sits down next to Steve.

 

"So do the young ones have a plan for the day or am I gonna come home to a fire in the backyard and a missing door?"

 

"That was one time! I can't believe you're still holding that over me. C'mon ma!" Steve implores and she sees Bucky perk up in excitement, his eyes twinkling and ears on attention.

 

"Wait! What? Ma, you've got to tell us. Tell me, tell me. Please."

 

"Later. Tell me what are your plans." She tells him with a grin and the brunet slumps back in his chair with the barest of pouts.

 

"Piet's tired, so we're gonna stay in. He's gonna sleep all day and I'll try to get him to wake up for at least lunch and some water. I'll binge watch Brooklyn 99."

 

"Haven't you already seen that show?" Steve questions with a smile and Bucky scowls at him in return.

 

"So?"

 

"Never mind, you nerd."

 

"Somebody once told me they like nerds," Bucky smirks back at Steve and Sarah watches in amazement as her son's face turns the lightest shade of red. She continues watching as Steve turns red by the second, till he finally finds his bearing and mouths "Fuck you" back at Bucky which makes the brunet cackle in amusement.

 

It's weird seeing Steve blush. She's sure she's never seen it before.

 

"I am gonna visit Sam. I haven't seen him in a long time. He might be missing me too much." Steve says, ignoring Bucky's less than savoury reaction to Steve's reprimand, and turns towards Sarah. 

 

"Sure!" Bucky taunts.

 

"Of course." Pietro joins in.

 

"Steve, will you be home for lunch?" Sarah questions her son as she ignores the boys and Steve shakes his head.

 

"Don't think so, ma."

 

"Okay. I've got to get to the hospital so I'll see you boys in the evening, okay?" she gets up from the table and walks over to the sink to put her dish down. The boys follow her one after the other and she smiles at each one of them as they wish her a good day at work and thank her for breakfast.

 

"I'll handle dinner, ma, don't worry about it," Bucky tells her as he bends down to put his plate into the dishwasher and Sarah cups his face in her hand as she voices her gratitude.

 

"Thank you so much, Bucky. You're an angel."

 

"He's ET." Steve and Pietro chorus from the table and she barely has time to blink before the boys are all running out of the kitchen, screams,and shouts as Bucky chases the two idiot blondes who think he's ET.

 

Sarah's pretty sure she's gonna come home to a fire and broken glassware.

 

(*)

Sam glanced at the clock as he moved across his drawing room to the door and narrowed his eyes at the numbers that showed just past 11. He wasn't expecting any guests and he really wasn't in the mood to entertain any neighbours. He sighed in fear of a lazy afternoon gone bad and threw open his door with all the lack of concern he could afford to give the person on the other side.

 

He soon regretted that because he really cared about the person on the other end.

 

"Steve! my man. Long time, no see. I was starting to think you forgot me." he grinned at the blonde and ushered him in. Steve smiled back at him in a similar fashion and threw himself on to the couch with the barest hint of grace.

 

"Oh, I wish! But you're like a nightmare, I just can't seem to forget you."

 

"Is that why you're gracing me with your face so early in the day?" Sam questioned with a smirk, his scent singing at the sight of his best friend. He took a seat next to Steve, far more gracefully than Steve had and turned to look at his friend.

 

"It's almost noon." The blonde deadpanned and Sam copied his expression.

 

"Still too early to see your face."

 

"Shut up!" the blonde grumbled and his face split into a smile that mirrored on Sam's face. He playfully punched Steve's arm and folded his legs underneath himself.

 

"So, why are you here? Is this a friendly visit or is it just that you want me to buy you pizza for lunch?"

 

"Pizza for lunch and a friendly visit. Can't I just come to see my best friend for no reason?" Steve asked with an innocent smile and Sam punched the air in excitement.

 

"Aw, I knew I was your best friend. Suck it, Barnes! Anyway, speaking of Barnes, how are things going at tu casa? No more fights so that you both can wake me up at three?" he asks with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and Steve laughs at the sight.

 

"That was one time and no, we're okay."

 

"My sleep schedule thanks you. What pizza do you want?" he asks as he pulls his phone out and Steve smiles innocently again, too innocently in Sam's opinion.

 

"Pineapple."

 

"Steve, I know you're kidding, but on the off chance you aren't, I implore you to reconsider." He even does the puppy dog eyes, screw him, but he can't eat pineapple pizza and he knows Steve's just doing it to spite him. Steve gives him the look that he only ever seems to give Sam and the bullies on the street, one that means he's evil as fuck and the worst thing to happen to them, and then does his dumb thinking face again.

 

"Okay, since you begged so gracefully, I'll take a meat lovers pizza with extra cheese. And a cheese burst crust. And a giant soda. And ask them if they have any dessert options."

 

"Where's all this going?" Sam asks gesturing to Steve stick thin body and Steve smiles at him with barely concealed glee and mischief. "And I know you're ordering all this because I'm paying. Wait till it's your turn, I'm gonna order all their pizzas." He threatens the omega with a smile and Steve's smile turns more devious than before as if that was even possible.

 

"Wait! That's a great idea. I want all their pizzas, in all sizes and a dozen large sodas. Please, and thank you." He smiles politely (absolutely fake, in Sam's opinion, he never means those smiles) and steals one of Sam's throw pillows to cuddle into. He looked all innocent and pure, with his big, dumb, blue eyes and golden hair, but Sam knew that asshole was fucking with him.

 

But nobody ever believed him, the perks of being Steve's best friend.

 

"Fuck you, Rogers!" he retaliated because he had to, okay? Otherwise, Steve Rogers grows too powerful.

 

"I am hurt." The blonde even does the dramatic ‘hand splaying on chest' action and Sam throws a throw pillow at his dumb, blonde head.

 

"You should be. Now I'm going to place the order, put something on Netflix. And I swear to god Steve, if I see some weird ass documentary, I'll throw you out immediately."

 

"Aye, aye, captain!" Steve fake salutes him and Sam knows it's going to something bad.

 

He comes back after placing the order to Steve reading the description on the Ted Bundy tapes. He glares at Steve but the omega just stares back with a challenging smirk and a dare in his eyes, putting Sam on the spot. Sam could change it and put on something else, but he knows it would mean the blonde won.

 

And you can't let Steve Rogers get too powerful.

 

So, he doesn't say anything and the two best friends sit down to watch Ted Bundy.

 

It's somewhere towards the end of episode one that their pizzas arrive. Sam gets up to take the rider, pay and then sits back down with the pizzas in his lap. Steve reaches for his own box, snatches a slice from Sam's and then turns back towards the screen like he's didn't just commit the worst crime in Bro-Laws: pizza snatching!

 

Sam stares at the back of his head but the blonde doesn't even shift uncomfortably and eventually, Sam gives up too.

 

By the second episode, it gets too hard to digest the pizza while listening to the horrible things Ted did. Sam starts feeling queasy but Steve's already abandoned his pizza and is staring at the remote longingly.

 

They look at each other for a second, Steve's eyes pleading with Sam to change the horrible show and put on something a bit more appealing, but Sam doesn't budge. He smirks at Steve and his obvious and self-earned discomfort and relaxes back on the sofa.

 

He even takes a bite of pizza just to show Steve how unaffected he is. (He isn't, but he can lie.)

 

Eventually, Steve's stubbornness runs out and he changes it to Iron Man. Sam squeals excitedly and the two best friends exchange excited looks. Finally, something they can both get behind.

 

Superhero movies and Robert Downey Jr.

 

Superhero movies had always been Sam's favourite growing up. He loved the Superman series, the incredible hulk movies and the multiple renditions of Spiderman. He had never been partial towards anyone studio and loved both DC and Marvel equally. He had even forgiven them for Green Lantern and Fantastic Four respectively.

 

It had been one of the interests he shared with Riley too. The alpha loved comic books movies as much as Sam did and it had been somewhat of a cornerstone for their relationship. They had had so many plans for so many movies…

 

Iron Man had been their first date.

 

Lost in the nostalgia and RDJ's exemplary acting, Sam doesn't notice the first signs of Steve's distress. He doesn't notice the cheerful vanilla scent turning sour nor does he notice Steve's fingers moving aimlessly over Sam's afghan. He doesn't notice Steve's attention slip from the movie and he doesn't notice Steve's attention turn towards him until the blonde speaks.

 

"Do you think therapy will be good for ma?" he questions suddenly and Sam turns around fast enough to give himself whiplash. He stares at the blonde for a couple of seconds, notices the things he missed earlier and shifts a little closer to the distressed omega.

 

"Yes, I really do. She's undergone years of abuse, mental, physical and emotional, and it will be really good for her to go for therapy. It'll really help her, Steve." he tells him gently but without any coddling. Steve will lash out if he even thinks there's any babying going on and he can't have that right now.

 

This is an important discussion. Not one he ever thought he would have with Steve. The blonde was fiercely protective of his thoughts and worries and the fact that he was sharing such a major concern with Sam meant it was immensely serious to him, something he couldn't mess up, something he had absolutely no prior knowledge upon. Steve doesn't always let people in, but when he does, it makes him all the more vulnerable.

 

And Sam was going to respect that.

 

"But won't it just bring up things of the past again? She'll have to relive all that again, Sam. It'll be so cruel to make her relive it again, to talk about it. How will she handle digging up all that again?" Steve questions with a maddening urgency, an edge to his voice, his voice unusually high and hands trembling. Sam shifts a little closer, a point of contact if touch will help the blonde centre himself, but far enough to give the blonde some space.

 

"Talking about it is the first step to accepting it, Steve. She has to accept the fact that it happened to her while also understanding that it was not her fault. She will relive a lot of those memories, maybe all, but it will help her heal. And she will heal, Steve. She's a strong woman, you always tell me so, there's no way she doesn't come out on top of this."

 

"I haven't spoken to her about this, but what if she doesn't want to go? How will I convince her to give this a chance?"

 

"You don't know if she's going to refute, Steve. Maybe she also thinks it's a good idea, you never know." He counters softly and for the first time in the discussion, Steve turns to look at him.

 

Sam can see fear, doubt, and worry in the blonde's eyes. Can see how badly he wants to do the right thing, can see the protectiveness and loyalty towards his mother. And the moment he sees that Sam knows Steve's going to always do the right things where his mom is concerned.

 

"I'll talk to her. I want her to do this, Sam, but I don't want to force her into anything. I want her to make the choice of her own free will."

 

Sam feels a surge of pride for his best friend, at the love and concern he shows his mother. Sarah's a lucky woman and Sam hopes she knows that, hopes she knows that even when the entire world turns dark, Steve will always shine like a beacon for her. He hopes she knows that even when the whole world turns against her, Steve will always be in her corner.

 

"And she will. Don't worry. You're a good son, Steve, you're not going to force her into anything and she knows that."

 

"Yeah. Okay."  Steve says and turns back to look at the screen. Sam knows the conversation is over, can see it in the way Steve holds himself, all fake nonchalance and fake interest in the screen in front of him.

 

Sam doesn't push, has never pushed Steve to talk about anything or anyone. So, he keeps his distance, takes his cue from Steve and turns around to look at the screen.

 

He doesn't forget the conversation but seeing Tony Stark get kidnapped takes his attention completely off their talk and on to the screen.

 

"How the hell does he look so hot after spending all this time in a cave?" he mutters after a while, seeing RDJ look hotter than ever in a cave while Sam himself looks like a caveman on his best days. He squints at the screen in hopes that the scene would change, but Tony still looks good enough to eat.

 

"I don't know what to tell you, Sam, he's Robert Downey Jr, okay? He can pull off anything and make anything look sexy. You remember that Easter bunny costume he wore and tweeted about? Still looked mighty fine in that." Steve tells him with a smirk and Sam grins at the remainder of that picture.

 

"Damn! I think I have that photo saved onto my phone. I'd gladly call myself a furry if he keeps that costume on." He adds, just to see Steve wrinkle his nose in disgust. He's not disappointed because the moment the words leave his mouth, Steve's face reacts.

 

"Ew, Sam, gross! What the fuck, dude? I am leaving."

 

"No, Steve, I haven't even shown you my own collection of animal costumes. Steve, don't you want to see my red room?" he shouts as Steve runs towards the kitchen, covering his ears and muttering to himself in an attempt to muffle Sam's screams. Sam's laughter follows Steve into the kitchen and Steve's answering laughter soon follows back from the kitchen.

 

And just like that Sam knows the therapy conversation is over. They'll probably never come back to it, at least Steve won't. Sam knows his best friend and he knows that it's probably the last time he's gonna hear about the therapy issue, but he's okay with that. Because Steve's still there in his apartment and not running away and that's important to him. Because Steve let himself be vulnerable, let Sam see that and still chose not to run away. That's progress as far as Sam's concerned; progress for Steve Rogers…

Notes:

Ich spreche vier Sprachen (German)- I speak four languages

Anglais, français, Russe et allemande (French)- English, French, Russian and German

Да (Russian)- Yes

 

Can we all pretend I didn't just write Marvel inside my Marvel fanfic? Can we also pretend Tony Stark is different to this Tony Stark? Pretty please 😅😅😅

From now on, I'll be doing some time jumps so let's be prepared for that too :)))))))))))))))))))))))

Chapter 19: I Wanna Save You Tonight

Summary:

Bed sharing :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Notes:

Yes I am back with my irregular update schedule xD

31st March 2020

Steve curses himself again as midnight gives way to the next day. He should've never taken an afternoon nap, should definitely not have fallen asleep for more than three hours and definitely shouldn't have done it before eating multiple bowls of ice cream after dinner.

 

Now, it's after 12 in the morning, he's not tired or sleepy in the slightest, he's running on a sugar high and the logo he's supposed to be drawing seems to be mocking him.

 

All in all, it's a great day to be Steve and Steve curses himself again for being himself.

 

He abandons his laptop and picks up his canvas. He sets it up on an easel and starts rummaging in his table for his art supplies. That's when he hears it: the softest of whimpers, the quietest of moans.

 

He moves closer to the wall he shares with Bucky, leans closer to the wall and as soon as he does, he hears the sound again. It's definitely a moan, but it's not one of pleasure, one of desire. It's pained, afraid and followed by the most wounded whimper he has heard. He bolts out of his room at the sound and knocks on Bucky's door.

 

The knocks don't arouse the brunet and Steve tries the handle on the off chance the door might be unlocked. The door opens with a click sound and Steve thanks whatever fate is on his side.

 

On the bed, Bucky lies fighting with his comforter and trying hard to throw it off him. It tangles with his leg and his arm and he cries out as he tries to wrench himself out of it. Steve sees sweat break out on the brunet's face and start to soak the t-shirt he's wearing. He runs to the alpha's side just as another aggrieved moan leaves his lips and he tries another time to free himself from his comforter.

"Buck…Buck, wake up." Steve shakes the alpha's shoulder but he doesn't wake, just tries to fight Steve off. Steve ducks away from his flailing limbs and tries again, lightly slapping his face and debating about screaming bloody Mary at the brunet.

 

The moment his hand connects with the brunet's face, he whimpers again, makes a heart-wrenching sound that seems to claw at Steve's heart long after it leaves Bucky's mouth.

 

His scent joins in on Bucky's anguish…

 

He takes his hands off the alpha, understanding that he probably can't distinguish between a good touch and a bad tough at the moment and starts calling out to him softly.

 

"Buck…please wake. C'mon you can do it, buddy. C'mon Buck, wake up, please." At the last word Bucky startles awake, limbs still twitchy and eyes darting from one corner of the room to another. Steve notices his gaze linger on the open door for a while before they settle on Steve and Steve has to swallow hard at the look of absolute fear and confusion on the alpha's face.

 

"Where am…what…the IED. The war…" he blabbered and stammered, scooting away from Steve, and locking eyes with the door, his scent giving off nauseating amounts of fear and pain.

 

The omega's heart broke. He'd never seen this side of Bucky, this broken, blabbering side of the otherwise confident, strong alpha. He'd never seen Bucky look at Steve with such desperation in his eyes, fear in his scent and uncertainty in every movement, and it hurt every part of Steve's small anatomy.

 

"Did you know Bucky suffers from nightmares? And I'm not talking the mild ones either. I'm talking wake up and not know who you are and where you are nightmares. At the VA we always encourage them to call somebody close to them in case of a nightmare like that, somebody to talk you down, remind you of yourself. Despite suffering them almost every night, he's never once called, because he says that it is a minor thing and nobody deserves to lose sleep over it but him."

 

He didn't know and now he's sure he didn't want to know either. He wants to keep Bucky's strong face in mind, pretend that Bucky isn't another vet who came home to PTSD and hardship. He wants to forget he ever saw Bucky cower away in fear, forget Bucky's pained whimpers. He was happy pretending he was the only one who had a boatload of problems to worry about, to fret over.

 

It was a happy pretence, but one that sadly didn't exist anymore. And it hurt.

 

Because Steve doesn't know how to handle his own problems but he wants to help Bucky with his. But he doesn't know how to do that either.

 

It hurt every fibre of Steve's being. His heart ached and eyes watered for the distraught alpha, for his friend, for his companion.

 

"Shh…you're at home, Buck, you're safe. There are no IEDs to hurt you here, Buck, no war. You're home, sweetheart, you're safe here with me," he told Bucky softly and the brunet blinked rapidly. Steve could see the second recognition flashed in Bucky's eyes and some of the fear left his body. The blonde offered a hand to Bucky, palm upturned and scent calm and Bucky looked at his hand for a while before taking it in his own.

 

"Steve…" he questioned in a hoarse whisper and Steve's heart constricted in his chest painfully. He smiled weakly at the alpha and nodded softly.

 

"I'm here, Buck. I'm right here. I've got you, okay? You don't need to worry."

 

"I was there…my team…I didn't see…I…" he trails off with a lost look in his eyes and it worries Steve. He can't let Bucky get lost in his head again, can't let him go back to horrors Steve just pulled him out of.

 

He tightens his grip on Bucky's hand, shuffles a little closer to him and covers Bucky's hands with his free hand. 

 

"Buck…" he calls out softly and the brunet jerks. He turns towards Steve, eyes wide open and haunted, and mouth agape. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times but no sound comes till Steve gives him another squeeze and calls his name again.

 

This time Bucky reacts…

 

His eyes shift, cataloguing every piece of furniture in the room and lingering on the bed before they land on his metal arm. His eyes widen all over again. He looks at his other arm and then back at his metal hand, does it again and again, before looking up and locking eyes with Steve. Steve can taste the fear in the air around them, can see swirls of shock, desperation, and panic mixing in with the blue of his eyes and he feels tears prick the corner of his eyes and sobs knock at the back of his throat. 

 

Nothing in his life could've prepared him for what happened next…

 

"My arm…I lost my arm. I lost my arm." Bucky starts murmuring in a fear induced panic and Steve just pulls him into his arms without thinking. He sees the distress and terror on Bucky's face and acts on instinct.

 

Bucky sobs in his arms, thrashes in Steve's arms for freedom, pulls his hand away from himself to look at it. He keeps murmuring the same thing over and over again and it worries Steve. He feels Bucky's tears soak through his own shirt and he feels some of his own escape down the back of Bucky's.

 

He holds Bucky tight against himself, doesn't let the brunet escape even as he thrashes around in Steve's arms. He places a hand on the back of Bucky's head and gently guides him towards Steve's neck, towards his scent glands. He lets Bucky bury his nose in his neck and scent him, lets his own scent soothe Bucky and his panic laden scent.

 

Steve lets Bucky cry it out on his shoulder. He buries his nose in Steve's neck and Steve tries hard to keep his scent loving, caring and generally calm. Bucky sobs some more, his body trembling and shaking in Steve's arms and Steve barely blinks back some more of his own tears at the image in front of him.

 

A broken record is what the mighty alpha reminds Steve of; repeating the same thing over and over again.

 

He shushes the brunet gently and sways them side to side, keeping his mind off the Bucky in his arms and instead on the Bucky of yesterday to keep his scent calm, and ultimately feels the brunet grow heavier in his arms. He realises Bucky might be falling asleep again and gently lowers them both on to the bed. He lifts himself off the sleepy brunet and pulls the comforter back over his chest.

 

He smoothes his hands over the comforter and runs one over the comforter and onto Bucky's face just to push a strand of hair away from it.

 

"Good night, Buck." He says softly and moves to stand up but an arm reaches out and takes hold of his own. He looks down at the brunet and Bucky's gives him an uncertain look, one he can't decipher for the life of him.

 

"Steve… will you stay here tonight? I…don't wanna be alone." He tells him in a timid voice and Steve's nods shakily.

 

"Of course, Buck." He replies without thinking and moves to the other side of the bed to climb in. He turns on his side to face Bucky and the brunet does the same. Steve takes one of Bucky's metal hand in his own and intertwines them, before lowering them both onto space between them. Bucky looks at their intertwined fingers for a moment before swallowing drily and giving Steve a watery smile.

 

"Thank you." He says softly and then as an afterthought adds, "Good night, Steve."

 

"Good night, Bucky." Steve smiles at the brunet and squeezes his hands in a comforting gesture. Bucky does the same back and they both close their eyes with small smiles and tired yawns.

 

Their hands stay linked in the morning.

 

(*)

 

Steve wakes up with a vague sense of his surroundings and blinking weary eyes at the ceiling. He immediately knows he's not in his room, the sheets are different against his skin and the comforter is certainly not his, but it takes him a second more to remember he's in Bucky's room, in Bucky's bed.

 

His first thought is to rush out of bed, run to his room and pretend none of this happened. The second thought is...well…not exactly a thought.

 

It's a reminder. It's a reminder that Bucky's hand is still in his own. It is a reminder that Bucky needed him last night. It's a reminder that Bucky asked him to stay because he didn't want to be alone. It's a reminder that Bucky feels safe with Steve there.

 

The blonde squeezes the warm palm in his own and turns on his side to look at the brunet.

 

Beautiful…the word comes up unbidden in his head but he shakes it away. Beautiful doesn't do justice to the way Bucky looks in the morning, soft sunlight warming his face and expression serene under the veil of sleep. He watches Bucky's eyelashes rest upon his carved cheekbones and envies the tan that gets to caress that handsome face. He watches the bow of Bucky's lips and the soft way they part when he breathes. He feels weird, creepy even, watching Bucky sleep like that, but as an artist, he can't help but admire beautiful things…people…

 

Beautiful still doesn't do justice to Bucky…

 

Exquisite perhaps…

 

Lost in his thought of finding a word to describe Bucky Barnes' beauty, Steve gives his hand another squeeze; enough to wake up the man in question.

 

"Are you awake, Steve?" he asks groggily and Steve considers feigning sleep for a while longer. He debates closing his eyes and holding his breath but Bucky's turns to look at him at that moment. The brunet turns on his side to mirror Steve's position and Steve gives him a small smile in return.

 

"Yeah…"

 

"I'm sorry for waking you." The brunet tells him apologetically and Steve shrugs as much as lying on one shoulder will let him.

 

"I was already awake."

 

"I'm not talking about now, Steve," Bucky tells him in a soft whisper and Steve sees shame and doubt flitter through the alpha's face. The chocolate scent in the room sours with every waking moment and Steve's own scent valiantly tries its best to keep it from happening.

 

Steve does too, moves a little closer to the brunet and uses his free hand to softly rest it on their conjoined hands. Cradles Bucky's hand in both his hands.

 

"Neither am I," he tells him softly and Bucky's looks up at him in something so akin to wonder it makes Steve's heart thrum. He fights the instinct to caress away every smidge of doubt from Bucky's features, every inch of same and embarrassment, and it is with great will power that he limits it to just rubbing small circles on the brunet's palm.

 

"I…Thank you for yesterday. I…" Bucky tells him after a while and Steve immediately shakes his head at the red-faced alpha.

 

"Bucky, we don't have to talk about yesterday. I would understand if you don't wanna get into it."

 

But Bucky doesn't listen. He shakes his head at Steve, tells him with his eyes, pleads even to let him say it, to let him admit that he's got a problem. Steve's not trying to stop Bucky, he's just giving Bucky an escape if he wants one, an out but Bucky's doesn't take it. He shakes his head firmly at the omega and taps a finger against Steve's hand for strength.

 

"I have nightmares and they suck. They ruin my sleep and everybody else's around me. I'm sorry you had to see that, that you had to be here for it. And I'm sorry I got snot all over you." He attempts a smile at the last part but Steve can see the pain shine through.

 

He can see the fear, the doubts, the worry. He's not sure what Bucky's worried about, what's going on in his head but Steve hates every second of this. He hates the lines that appear around his eyes, he hates the crease on his forehead, he hates the way serenity has left Bucky's face. He doesn't like the way Bucky's hurting and he certainly doesn't like that he can't do anything about it.

 

He just wants to take all of Bucky's worries away and watch the man smile forever…

 

He doesn't question why…

 

"I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry, Buck." He says instead of all the things he should say and he sees confusion shift some of the pain out of grey eyes.

 

"Why are you sorry?"

 

"I am sorry that I didn't know how to help you. I didn't know what to do, Buck, I'm so sorry." He tells the alpha and he doesn't move, doesn't blink for a while and Steve worries if the alpha is angry about that. If he's angry about Steve's shortcomings as a friend. He debates moving away from Bucky and giving the brunet some space but before he can finish thinking about it, Bucky's hands tighten on his own and he pulls the omega closer to himself.

 

"You helped me, Stevie, you did so well. I didn't know where I was, who I was with and you helped me feel safe. I can never thank you enough for it. You're my hero, Stevie, you saved me from my own self." He tells the omega, stares right into his baby blue eyes and whispers in a voice so soft it's a surprise it carries across the distance between the two.

 

But it does. It carries across the distance between them, across flesh, bones, and blood in Steve's body and reverberates within Steve heart, soul, every fibre of his being. He can't help the soft smile that spreads across his face at the feeling of warmth he gets off the words and he certainly can't help trying to give back Bucky a similar feeling.

 

"You're a hero, Buck. You went overseas to fight for your country, you served the people without ever asking for anything in return and you continue to be strong after losing so much there. You are kind and considerate and even after having a very disturbing nightmare the previous night, you still wake up worrying about others and apologising. You're something else, Buck, something special." He sounds sappy even to his own ears, sentimental and foolish, but none of what he said is a lie.

 

They are not, they never could be. Because Bucky's special, he's special in many ways and all ways and he's special to Steve too.

 

In a lot of ways and many more ways and all ways…

 

"Like ET?" Bucky questions with a small smile and Steve can't help himself as he snorts in return.

 

"Exactly like ET."

 

"Thank you, Stevie. Thank you so much." There's so much gratitude and adoration in Bucky's eyes that Steve wants to look away from them immediately. It is so open, honest and vulnerable that it scorches Steve with its intensity. He finds himself powerless to look away and too weak to look into.

 

He wants to run away…

 

Being this close to Bucky, lying on his bed and holding his hand, it all seems wrong, forbidden, dishonest and Steve wants to run away from it.

 

He's not supposed to be here, he reminds himself. This is no place for him. His place is a brick wall and a door away. Bucky gave him a place in his home, not his bed…

 

"Now c' mon, big man, the walk isn't gonna walk themselves." He jumps out of bed before he even finishes talking and wrenches his hands out of Bucky's in the process. The minute their hands separate, he feels the urge to lunge back for it. It hurts like he lost something precious but he swallows his useless feelings and starts making his side of the bed.

 

"And your coffee?" Bucky's asks with a grin and Steve wants to thank him for not mentioning Steve's deflection.

 

"You're buying, on the way back." He tells the brunet with a challenging smirk and Bucky agrees with a small laugh.

 

"Deal."

 

As Steve walks out, he knows why it all felt so wrong. Simply because it didn't.

 

It felt right and perfect and splendid and thousands of other words nothing short of marvellous, and that's what's wrong. He shouldn't be feeling that way. He shouldn't be thinking that Bucky's beautiful and fighting with himself to touch Bucky's face.

 

Because that's wrong. They're not…he's not…what?

 

Because he's not Pietro and they're not in a relationship and suddenly Steve feels himself wanting to be. He wants to be who Pietro is, he wants to have what Pietro has and that's what's wrong, forbidden, dishonest…

  

Notes:

Can everybody please, please, please comment and tell me what your favorite part of the fic is, what you liked/like best? Please...

 

My absolutely favorite part about writing this fic has been getting to know some of you. I love talking to you guys online and I love interacting with you all in the comments section. You guys are the best <3

Chapter 20: Heat of the Moment

Summary:

Steve goes into heat...

Notes:

YES I AM ALIVE!!!!

5th April 2020

The lyrics to shake it off were stuck in his head and the brunet didn't know how it had ended up there or how to get rid of it. He hummed it to himself softly and shook his hips a little as he fixed his hair in the mirror. He knew he looked good in his light blue t-shirt and black jeans. His messy brown hair looked like sex hair and he was sure anybody would agree he looked like sex on legs at the moment. He gave himself a saucy wink at the thought and flexed his arms in the mirror.

 

The metal arm looked good against the backdrop of his short and he smiled as he thought about what his boyfriend might have to say about him today.

 

He smiled to himself at the thought, gave himself a playful wink and finger guns and stepped out of the bathroom. Pietro and he were going to the park that morning, a break from the busy week they both had gone through. Pietro had been swamped with projects and assignments the entire week and for some time before that, and Bucky had been too busy organising a small get together for the vets at the VA. There had been plenty of good food, some classy music and more smiles than the VA was used to, and Bucky was still on cloud nine about its success. But it had meant he had missed his boyfriend dearly and just the thought of seeing him again was making Bucky's step a little lighter.

 

He may or not have also prepared a bunch of cheesy puns he was dying to share with the beta.

 

He imagines the fond exasperated look on Pietro's eyes and sings to himself as he crosses his room and moves towards the staircase. He's almost at the top of the staircase when he hears a soft sound from Steve's bedroom. He strains his ears to hear more but it doesn't come again. Shrugging to himself he steps on to the first step. But this time the sound comes again and Bucky recognises it immediately.

 

A moan: pleasured and content.

 

He smiles to himself as he takes the next step and suddenly the scent hits him in all its force. Sweet, warm vanilla, freshly made and pleasantly honeyed. He sniffs the air again to confirm it and this time there's no mistaking the scent sweetly assaulting his senses.

 

Steve not…Steve's not in there having fun, he's in his heat…

 

Bucky frowns at the realization. Sarah's not home, she's at the hospital for her shift, and though he doesn't get heats, he can guess they might not be too pleasant an experience to be experienced alone. He makes up his mind in half and second and turns back to walk up the stairs. He walks over to Steve's bedroom and stands at the door to call out to Steve. He calls once, twice, trice but Steve doesn't answer. He realizes with a groan that the omega is not awake.

 

He considers letting Steve sleep, but he needs to make sure Steve's eaten something before he walks out the door. Steve's a late sleeper and Bucky knows that if he lets Steve sleep, he'll sleep too late and wake up in no condition to take care of himself.

 

Bucky sniffs the air again. The scent is strong but it's not a full-fledged heat yet. Steve has some time before he's hit with the full force of his heat and he needs to have a full stomach for it. Bucky raps his knuckles on the door and when that goes unanswered too, hits the door with his palm. The thud seems to wake Steve up and an expletive comes hurling towards Buck from within. Bucky waits for a second before opening the door and slipping inside, his face almost slipping into a fond smile at the sight of Steve's scrunched up face and half kicked away blankets.

 

"Stevie…" he calls out softly and Steve turns towards him with a scowl on his face. Bucky smiles at the blonde's disgruntled expression and moves a little closer to his bed, his face threatening to start full-on grinning at the way Steve seems to be plotting his murder in his head.

 

"Stevie…you're in heat." He tells him softly as he comes to stand next to the head of Steve bed and Steve narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. The blonde takes a second to close his eyes and breathe quietly before opening his eyes and fixing Bucky with a glare.

 

"Yeah, no shit, sherlock," Steve grumbles back and Bucky almost chuckles at the omega. But he knows to laugh, even at something Steve said, will not be the best course of action right now so he refrains from it, but barely. Instead, he gives Steve a huge shit-eating grin and walks towards the bedside table where a bottle of water is kept.

 

"I see heat hasn't got your tongue." He smiles as the blonde scowls at him and abuses him again and offers Steve the bottle of water. The omega begrudgingly gets up and snatches the bottle from him and fixes him with the most unimpressed look Bucky's ever seen. This time the smile is a lot harder to control.

 

But where his face marginally succeeds, his scent spectacularly fails. It sings in amusement and not even the tiny shred of worry dampens its giddy mood.

 

It surprisingly doesn't surprise Bucky at all that Steve is angry about the fact that he's in heat. It goes so well with his personality; he thinks and smiles at the murderous glare he's been receiving.

 

It's kinda cute…

 

"Fuck…you…" Steve says as soon as he drinks some water and Bucky bites his lip his tongue at the very obvious retort. Best not to tempt Steve into actually committing homicide or should he say homiecide, he thinks to himself and smiles.

 

From the way Steve smiles at him, Bucky's pretty sure he knows what the brunet was going to say.

 

The sweet scent of Steve's scent strengthens and wafts more with every second that Steve's awake and soon it starts becoming too cloggy and sweet in the room. Bucky knows, any other alpha and Steve would've been in danger by now, but Bucky's learned to control his biology. Some part of the training was courtesy of the army; the men had been trained for the chance that the civilians may be in-heat omegas and they would have to control their baser instincts in that situation. Not just the people they rescue, even the doctors who attended to them, the nurses and other staff could be omegas and the men had been strictly ordered (and properly trained) to control their libidos. Right now, for the first time since returning from the army one arm lighter, he thanks the army as he stands breathing in Steve's intoxicating smell and doesn't lose his bearings.

 

The other part of the training, he's had long before that…

 

"I'm gonna make you something to eat, okay?" he tells the blonde softly and turns to walk away. However, he doesn't get too far before Steve's hand tightens around his wrist and holds him back, the blonde's voice barely a whisper as he pleads.

 

"Don't go…please stay…"

 

Bucky turns to look at the blonde and he can see the shame and embarrassment cloud his face and make him bow his head. He knows Steve is already berating himself forever saying something like that, and even before dropping his hand, Bucky knows Steve already started on the self-flagellation.

 

Bucky can guess the amount of trust it must have taken Steve to say something like that, to admit that he needed Bucky's presence at such a vulnerable time. He knows denying Steve now will only make everything worse. Steve will crawl back into his shell and Bucky can forget their talk about communication.

 

He knows his scent is comforting. His scent is not aroused, it's pretty calm and composed and he knows Steve's drawing comfort from the chocolatey scent; the scent is easing him into heat instead of suffocating him and making him panic. But he needs to go, the first rule of heat is to not go through it on an empty stomach, hence he needs to make Steve something to eat. He can, however, leave his scent behind.

 

He gives Steve a reassuring smile and gently draws his hand back from Steve's loose grip. Steve lets it go without a word and immediately drops his eyes to the comforter in shame.

 

The alpha doesn't say anything, just grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off himself in one clean move. Steve looks up at the rustling of clothes and his eyes widen as he sees Bucky standing there with his t-shirt off and held in his outstretched hands.

 

"Here, I'll get you something to eat, okay? Will you be okay with that?" he asks in a soft voice and Steve looks up at him in confusion. Bucky smiles tenderly at him and starts nuzzling softly into his own t-shirt, smiling kindly at Steve and motioning for him to do the same. Steve smiles as the realization sinks in and then promptly blushes as he takes the t-shirt from Bucky.

 

Gratitude further sweetens the already sweet air around them.

 

Bucky watches with a smile as the young omega nuzzles into his shirt and he repeats his question from earlier. Steve doesn't open his eyes to answer but he does make an affirmative sound in the back of his throat, making Bucky grin in return.

 

He smiles at the omega as he leaves the room, closes the door softly behind him and makes his way downstairs to get started on breakfast.

 

(*)

 

Bucky's already made some eggs, a couple pieces of toast and, a few sausages when the doorbell rings. He curses himself softly as he realizes that time got away from him and he is late to be with his boyfriend. He rushes to the door with a guilty smile and throws open the door with the most charming smile he can manage.

 

"Hey, Piet." He croons with a flirty smile but the blonde brushes past him without a reply. Bucky can smell the slight irritation in his scent and his own scent drops in despair.

 

He doesn't like seeing Pietro upset, doesn't like to see those blue eyes droop in grief and smell the scent darken in sorrow. He knows he should've called, should've at least texted Pietro and he internally cringes at how quickly he forgot all that when faced with a situation.

 

He turns towards Pietro with a million apologies on his tongue but the beat stops him in his tracks and sniffs the air lightly.

 

"Steve's in heat?" the beta asks with a raised eyebrow and Bucky nods sheepishly, advancing towards Pietro with his arms open and face apologetic.

 

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't call or text, I just got distracted by everything. Give me a minute to give him some breakfast, call Sarah and then we can leave, okay?" he asks as he pulls Pietro into his arms and Pietro sighs as soon as he is engulfed in Bucky's arms.

 

"Buck, we can't leave him in this state. He should have somebody looking after him right now." Bucky's lips part in a fond smile as the words leave Pietro's mouth and he tightens his arms around his kind and considerate boyfriend.

 

He does not have much experience with people, hasn't had much contact with many since he got shipped out at 18, but he knows no one would've been this considerate, this understanding of this whole situation. Pietro had not once demanded that Bucky divorce Steve, even after Bucky had told him that Steve and he had had the divorce talk. He understood when Bucky told him about the fear he saw in Steve's face when he broached the subject and had himself demanded Bucky give the omega some time to make sense of everything in his life. He had always considered Steve a friend, even when Bucky had dropped the no sex rule on him and then the fact that he was pretending to be Steve's husband in front of Tony Stark.

 

But this probably takes the cake. He's worried about Steve when his own boyfriend stood him up.

 

"I know, sweetheart, but you know Steve. He'll not want an alpha sticking around and he definitely doesn't want somebody fussing after him." He tells Pietro with a sad smile as he pulls away a little and he sees the cogs in Pietro's head spin. The blonde makes a small inquisitive sound that dies down quickly and Bucky plants a small kiss to the corner of his mouth as he pulls away from Pietro and moves towards the kitchen.

 

"Okay, maybe not an alpha. What about me? I'll take care of him, he's my friend, I ought it to him." Pietro says as he enters the kitchen after Bucky and the alpha doesn't look up from where he's plating the eggs and the sausages, pretending that every word out of Pietro's mouth, every kind, compassionate, considerate word out of his gorgeous mouth is not making him want to throw Pietro against the counter and see what other noises he can make.

 

"He'll not be amenable to that." He says instead and pretends to take extra interest in buttering toast.

 

"It's not his decision to make." Pietro counters and Bucky wants to point out that yes, it is. Steve is the one who will make the decision whether he wants Pietro to stick around or not if he wants somebody taking care of him.

 

Instead, he leaves the plate on the counter and gathers Pietro into his arms, planting a small kiss to his nose as he looks at the blonde with a soft smile.

 

"And what about you? You want to spend your day off taking care of Steve?"

 

"Yeah, sure. I like Steve. He's my friend." Pietro answers simply and this time Bucky cannot help but step up and kiss him softly. He keeps the kiss chaste but no less thorough and passionate. He takes his own sweet time mapping out Pietro's lips with his own and it is only when Pietro whines that Bucky pulls back a little just to leave a mere inch between them.

 

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll grab my stuff and leave, find a hotel or something, and you can stay with Steve till Sarah comes. Does that sound good?" he asks Pietro, his words a mere breath of air on Pietro's lips. Pietro shudders at the sensation and sways forward slightly, but Bucky holds him back with a sheepish smile and a gesture towards the upper floor.

 

"Except one part. Stay with me. My roommate is out of town and I don't have anyone to share a large pizza with." Pietro whispers breathlessly and Bucky can't help but surge in to kiss him again.

 

"Now that's an offer I can't say no to…" he moves back just enough to speak and this time its Pietro who pushes him away and chuckles at the pout on his face.

 

"Get out of here. And don't forget to text Sarah." He reminds Bucky and gathers up the tray with the eggs and the sausages. He hip checks Bucky as he crosses him while going towards the upper floor and Bucky catches his biceps in his arms and gives him another deep kiss.

 

"I love you," Bucky tells him honestly, the words tumbling out of him without warning and it is totally worth it when Pietro gives him a smile that could brighten the whole world.

 

"I love you too." he gives Bucky a shy smile as he steps back and turns back to wink at Bucky when he reaches the staircase.

 

Bucky knows then, that he's screwed…

 

(*)

13th April 2019

It takes five days for Steve's heat to cool down and two more days for the aftershock to wear off. He texts Bucky first after five days, telling him the heat is over and that he needs two more days to recuperate but Bucky doesn't text back.

 

Steve texts him again after two more days, telling him he's perfectly fine now and that Bucky can come home but he doesn't get a reply this time either.

 

He worries about it a lot, a nagging voice in his head telling him that Bucky probably got an inkling of Steve's feelings for him and is not returning because of that, but he knows Bucky wouldn't do that. He racks his mind to remember if he's said something to Bucky in his heat daze, but he draws a blank on that front too.

 

He remembers requesting Bucky to stay with him because he craved the calm way he smelled and remembers Bucky giving him his t-shirt in return.

 

Maybe that had been too weird for Bucky, maybe he had finally understood why Steve had requested him to stay…

 

He's sat in his bed wondering what he did, when Sarah walks in, her eyes kind, but unsmiling.

 

"That was an intense week." She says without any preamble and Steve nods and agrees; his mind too distracted to notice the way his mom narrows her eyes at him.

 

"Yeah. I almost thought it wouldn't end." It was the truth; he had never had a heat that lasted this long or was this intense. Due to his small stature and what his body could and couldn't take, his heat lasted a maximum of 3 days and its aftereffects wore off in a day. But this time it had lasted longer and no number of toys had made the emptiness in him go away.

 

It had been bizarre, to say the least.

 

"Have you ever had a heat like that? So…overpowering?" Sarah questions as she takes a seat on Steve's bed and Steve frowns at her in return.

 

She knows he hasn't, she's been there for almost all of Steve's heats, barring the ones in the last two years. Even then, she had been there at the beginning or at the end to hold him, soothe him with her pheromones, make him some food to regain some lost strength, even just to dispel some loneliness. She knows all this about him and still asks a question like that.

 

He tilts his head in confusion and shuffles closer to her.

 

"No. Never. And I must say, I'm not a fan." He attempts a joke to break the tension he can feel in the air, but his mother just brushes past it without cracking even a smile. He frowns harder at her action and subtly sniffs the air.

 

And there's nothing there; nothing to worry anybody else at least. But Steve knows its wrong; his mom's scent is too neutral, no hint of any emotion in it and he knows that wrong. It's impossible that she's walked into his room to have a cryptic talk with him without feeling any emotion.

 

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth and lays a gentle hand on his ma's shoulder. To his relief, she doesn't flinch away.

 

"What do you think caused it? Why was it so strong this time, Stevie?" she questions in a flat voice and it troubles Steve to no end that she refuses to even look at him. He rubs her shoulder absent-mindedly and doesn't wait to think about an answer, even though his eyes drift to the blue t-shirt that lays across his pillow.

 

"How do I know, ma? It's probably the age thing. I'm turning 21 in a few months and it's unacceptable to my stupid biology that I'm not carrying around some alpha's pup." He grips back, his anger flaring at the thought of that and let's go of Sarah's shoulder. He sits back a little and tries to burn a hole in the floor.

 

"Hmm…"

 

"Mom, what is it? What's troubling you?"

 

"I don't think it's about an alpha's pup." She began slowly and Steve's nostrils already flared in anger and indignation. Not this fucking talk again. "I think it's about an alpha." She finished and Steve was up and out of the bed in a flash. He had had this talk with his mom thousands of times, the fucking ‘find an alpha' talk and to have it again wasn't something he was going to acquiesce to. He glared at his mom till she looked up at him and spoke to her in as calm a voice as he could manage through all the fury rushing through him.

 

"Mom, I'm more than just an omega. I'm not gonna find an alpha and become his bitch, clean his house and take care of his kids. I can do so much more than that, I was meant for more than this. I don't want or need an alpha any time soon!" he almost shouts but Sarah doesn't flinch, she doesn't even blink at his outburst. She matches his gaze with a calm look of her own and when she speaks Steve can see her metaphorically looking down at him: nothing condescending but patronizing, as if Steve was a child who was having trouble understanding.

 

"I was not talking about finding an alpha, Stevie, I was saying you already found one."

 

"What are you talking about?" he asks in a daze, his voice too high and pitchy to pass off as casual, but he knows the answer to that question. Could tell that with pinpoint accuracy. He suddenly finds it difficult to meet his mother's eye.

 

"You remember when I brought you that alpha scented patches to help you through your heat, but you took one sniff and threw them away?" she asked after a while, her entire focus zeroed in on Steve. the younger omega took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded lightly in reply.

 

"Yeah…" His eyes drifted again and again towards the t-shirt, that now smelled more like him than the alpha, and swallowed dryly, all the fight draining out of him.

 

 

"Do you remember telling me that alphas always smelled too strong to you when you're in heat, that you couldn't stand it?"

 

"Yeah…" he answered and closed his eyes in defeat. He knew exactly what this was about now and he couldn't lie out of this. He knew where his mom was going with this, should have seen it coming too, but he hadn't had the time to sit down and analyze his own behavior yet. He needed time to make head or tail of the past few days.

 

"You spent the last week curled around one article, Stevie. Pietro made you a very comfortable nest but the only thing you appreciated was a worn-out t-shirt." She finished and Steve could hear the barely concealed frustration in those words, could see his mom's eyes cloud in anger.

 

At Pietro's mention, his blood ran cold. Sweet, innocent Pietro who stayed with him till his mother came home, giving him sponge baths and laying a cold cloth over his forehead Pietro who made him lunch and when he felt too out of it, even fed it to him. Pietro who considered him a close enough friend to push the hair out of his eyes and make a comfortable and safe nest for him.

 

Pietro, who could've spent time with the man he loved, but had instead spent it with him and how had Steve repaid him? By curling up around an article of clothing that belonged to his boyfriend and inhaling it every time a very hard bout of heat hit; imagining all sorts of scenarios where instead of Bucky's shirt, Bucky would be there.

 

Steve's going to fucking hell for his sins…

 

He turned his back to her, dropped his voice to a whisper and implored his mom in a broken whisper…

 

"Ma…"

 

"I'm not done, honey. The t-shirt didn't smell overpowering, you didn't throw it away. You accepted it and you embraced it. Stevie…is there something you wanna tell your mom?" she asked him with tightly sealed lips and Steve was shaking his head before he could even think about the question.

 

"No, there's nothing, ma. Bucky's smell was just familiar, that's it. Please don't read too much into that." He hated lying to his mother but he couldn't let Sarah know the truth, he couldn't let her worry about this on top of everything else too. He tried hard to keep his voice from cracking and for his scent to remain neutral but, he had an ingoing his mother knew anyway. He sighed, gulped and closed his eyes tightly.

 

"If you say so, honey, but please be careful. This won't be like the times you come home with a broken nose or a dislocated shoulder, Stevie. Your heart will not mend itself whole if you break it. There will always be jaded edges, broken pieces, scattered remains. Be careful with it, Stevie, don't let somebody else be in charge of it." she told him quietly and left his room. Steve couldn't bear to watch her leave, couldn't watch the disappointed set of her shoulders. He heavily sat back on the edge of the bed as soon as she left and put his head in his hand.

 

He had a lot of thinking to do…

 

Notes:

Where the fuck is Bucky?

Why is Pietro such a good guy, I want to hate him :(

Talk to me in the comments... and we will speculate together :)))))))))))

Chapter 21: If I Break, Will You Hold Me

Summary:

Steve gets a phone call.

Notes:

The chapter we have all been waiting for (no the boys are not kissing xD )

20th April 2020

It's a dark, gloomy day when the call comes. Steve almost lets it go to voicemail, but something stops him at the very last second. It's an unknown number and the very sight of it makes alarm bells go off in Steve's head. He looks up at the sky for a second, furrows his brows, scowls at the melancholic atmosphere and picks up the call a second before it disconnects.

 

He almost drops it when the person on the other end starts speaking. Steve barely gets a word out before he feels his body get weak and his bones freeze. He stands stock-still at the sidewalk, his phone held in wobbly hands and eyes set dead ahead.

 

He knows he needs to say something, anything. He needs to acknowledge whatever it is that the lady on the other side is telling him, but he finds himself unable to move or respond. He nods his head without thinking and disconnects the call when the lady calls out to him.

 

The sidewalk spins before his eyes and the entire axis of his world tilts. After years of hatred, disgust, venom, and malice, he still finds himself shedding a tear.

 

Alcohol poisoning takes his cruel, abusive, asshole of a father away and suddenly the gloomy skies clear a bit…

 

(*)

 

The funeral is a blur of activity. Some of Joseph's war buddies attend, sporting uniforms not worn in a few years and grim looks on their faces. They express their condolences to Sarah and stare at Steve in shock. They never knew Joseph had a son; Steve is not surprised.

 

There's unsurprisingly nobody from his father's side of the family, they're all dead or strangers and Steve finds himself unconsciously bitter about the fact that the only people Joseph can call family, are the ones who have been mistreated the most at Joseph's hand. But he's also glad about it, Joseph doesn't deserve a whole family mourning him, he deserves somebody to spit on his grave and swear at his tombstone.

 

His mom's there by his side throughout the day, her pale skin standing out in her black dress and red eyes complimenting her tear-streaked red cheeks. She's been crying ever since she received the news, but Steve cannot for the life of him figure out why. Joseph doesn't deserve his mother's tears, doesn't even deserve her mere presence at his funeral. After the way he has treated her, he doesn't even deserve to die wed to her. He doesn't deserve this elaborate funeral that's being thrown for him, he doesn't deserve the flowers everyone insists on bringing, he doesn't deserve the kind words, the polite smiles and the tears that are for him.

 

He deserves nothing.

 

What he deserved was to die on the streets as he did. He deserved drinking himself to his death. He deserved dying without his loved ones by his side. He deserved rotting away in his house two days before the neighbors found his body. He deserved the rotting carcass and the foul stench of alcohol.

 

Sam stands beside him the whole day. Dressed in his Class-A uniform, Sam is everything Joseph wanted Steve to be: the picture of a tall, strong military alpha son. He feels bitter about the fact that Sam wore his uniform to his shitty father's funeral but he knows that Sam is obligated to. Rotten personality and carcass aside, Joseph still served in the army and that means Sam is obligated to show his respects, irrespective of whether Joseph deserved that respect or not.

 

It also makes Steve glad that Joseph didn't die serving the country; he's not sure he would enjoy watching his father being buried with full state honors.

 

Some of his neighbors also attend, shake Steve's hand, kiss Sarah's cheeks and take a seat immediately. He's glad they don't linger; they know too much of the family's history to bother telling either omega they're sorry for their loss.

 

Bucky's there too, somewhere. Steve saw him leave the house in the morning, a shadow that appeared at the door for a second and then vanished. Ever since the news of the death broke out twenty-four hours ago, Steve's hardly seen Bucky. The brunet had placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder when Steve had come home to deliver the news to his mother, had pulled Sarah into his arms when Steve couldn't, had helped organize this entire event. Steve had been too shocked to do much, Sarah too distraught and Sam always by Steve's side. That left Bucky with all the responsibility and though Steve feels bad about it now, he couldn't be bothered to plan a heartfelt funeral for the man who made every second of his life as morose and grief-stricken as a funeral. Joseph made very second of Steve's life a funeral and Steve repaid him by not making even his funeral a fucking funeral.

 

And somewhere, he thinks, he played into his father's biggest dream too. In his own selfishness, he passed on the duty of a son to the only man Joseph had ever considered a son. Even in his death, his father had manipulated Steve into doing what he wanted.

 

It almost startles a laugh out of him, but he painfully refrains. It won't do him any good to make people think he's completely lost in the aftermath of his father's death. He needs to not spiral right now, for the sake of his mother, and nothing more.

 

Pietro comes, offers Steve a hug, a glass of water and leads Sarah away to eat something. He thrust a plate into Steve's hand, gives Sam a meaningful nod and disappears again. Every time Steve sees him, he means to ask about Bucky, but words freeze up every time he sees Pietro's kind eyes and remembers his own selfish motives.

 

Steve's all kinds of fucked up at this point.

Food happens, people drink, his dad's thrown in the back of a hearse and lowered into a ground with a plaque that reads some utter bullshit about him. Kind, he never was, honest, he really couldn't be.

 

He mom cries some more, Joseph's war buddies murmur some more, the priest prays some more and everybody pretends to care some more. No amount of prayer is gonna save Joseph's soul and Steve knows that, but he hopes his prayers at least reach the demons who take that into account as they torture Joseph, add that extra zing to everything they do.

 

His mom travels back with their old neighbor, a polite middle-aged woman named Polly, and Steve watches her go with a heavy heart and wet eyes. She doesn't deserve to feel sad, doesn't even deserve to feel anything towards that asshole. He stands, staring after her retreating figure, and doesn't notice the figure at his side until Sam starts talking.

 

"Steve…"  the omega knows from his tone, as to where the conversation's going. He knows Sam means well, but he's not ready for it yet, he's not ready to talk to Sam about anything. He takes a deep breath, watches the dust rise as the cars drive away, and turns towards Sam with a barely-there smile.

 

"Sam…"

 

"If you wanna talk, I-" Sam begins but Steve doesn't let him finish. He pushes past Sam towards his own car and shrugs his shoulders as he fiddles with the keys.

 

"I don't wanna talk, Sam, I'm fine. Thank you for being here today, it means a lot." He looks back at the alpha so he can see the gratitude in his eyes and Sam smiles at that.

 

"You're my best friend, Steve, there's no other place I'd rather be, than at your side," he says and pulls Steve into a hug. To say Steve melts into the hug would be an understatement.

 

He stood strong the whole day, let his mother take support and consideration she needed from him today. He stood stoic and unmoving at her side as she wept because one of them had to stay strong. But he was only human after all. After a day of confusing feelings and half-formed thoughts, the comfort of the hug felt too good.

 

He gripped the back of Sam's suit jacket tightly and blinked back tears at the alpha's words.

 

"You fucking sap. Don't sweet-talk me so much, you're still not getting in my pants." He tells him through wobbly words and Sam chuckles though he knows Steve's just trying to change the topic.

 

"Damn! You are a hard man to please, Rogers. I might have to try with flowers next time." He tells him and tightens his hug for a second. Steve inhales Sam's strong scent, draws all the comfort he can from it and pulls back to look at the tall alpha only when he feels his eyes dry again.

 

"Sure, trying to kill me using pollen might just work in your favor." He accompanies the words with an eye roll and turns back to walk towards the car. Sam doesn't say anything for a while but he follows Steve. By the time they reach the car, Sam's back to his serious tone.

 

"You sure you don't wanna talk, Steve? This couldn't have been easy on you."

 

"I am okay, Sam, I promise. But I do need to talk to you about ma." Steve tells him, somewhat honestly and Sam stands up straighter at that. He nods at Steve to go on before an inkling of the conversation strikes him.

 

"Therapy…" it is part statement, part question but Steve still nods at that. He brings his thumb towards his mouth to nibble at it and stares at the grass underneath his feet as he thinks of what to say to Sam.

 

How to phrase the truth that's been eating at him…

 

"She cried at his funeral, Sam. He treated her like shit for years and she still cried, she's heartbroken about his death. This cannot be normal; she cannot still love Joseph." he tells him, Steve's voice breaking at every word, every thought. His voice shakes at every word and he knows he's dangerously close to tears again, but he doesn't let them fall. He closes his eyes tightly as he waits for Sam to reply and almost draws blood from his thumb with his teeth.

 

"You cannot dictate somebody else's normal, Steve, and you cannot dictate love. This is not healthy but she's the only one who has a say in it."

 

"I love her, Sam, and I want the best for her." He tells Sam, his voice taking on a pleading edge and Sam nods sagely, brows furrowed in thought. He knows he's yet to talk to her about it, but he can't bring himself up to tell his mother he thinks she needs help. He can't look at her and tell her she is weak and needs to be stronger with the help of another.

 

He can't look at her and tell her that he doesn't know how to help her anymore and she might need to go seek somebody else to do so.

 

"I know you do. You talk to her about this and I'll call Dr. Banner. He's one of the best in the city, probably the world, he'll know what to do." Sam tells him softly, pulling Steve out of his disturbing thoughts and making him jerk his head in what he hopes is an answer.

 

Sam eyes him a little skeptically so Steve puts on a smile he doesn't feel up to and pats the alpha on his back.

 

"Okay. Thank you, Sam. You're the best." Sam looks at him questioningly for a second longer before his face splits in a smile and he punches Steve's shoulder playfully.

 

"I know. And you're not too bad yourself." He tells him with a wink and Steve almost cracks a smile.  The alpha waves at him as he crosses to go get in his own car and Steve's left standing there, his father's funeral and his mom's crying playing in a loop in his head.

 

(*)

He sits on the edge of his bed, eyes, and limbs tired, but mind keyed up and rearing to go. He's scared of what will happen the moment he puts his head on his pillow and closes his eyes, he's scared of the guilt and greed that is gonna overtake him. He scared of the tears he'll invariably shed and even more terrified of the reason.

 

Despite what his exhaustion tells him, Steve forces his eyes wide open and tries to burn the image of his bare walls into his mind.

 

A soft knock on the door startles him back to focus and he blinks away any sleep that's crept upon him. He shakes his head as he clears his mind and mutters a small come in.

 

The door opens tentatively and the warm smell of chocolate wafts in.

 

The scent makes Steve all the angrier.

 

He looks up at Bucky, who enters wearing his army uniform, and immediately lowers his eyes. Now's not a good time to think about how good Bucky looks in his uniform, it's not the time to think anything good about Bucky.

 

He's pissed at the alpha for…for…so many things…

 

"Look who finally decided to show up. The funeral was superb, it's a pity you missed it." he grits out from between tightly clenched teeth but Bucky's expression doesn't change from the weary guilt it holds. He looks up at Steve for a second before he drops his gaze and takes a seat at the corner of the bed; too far and yet too close to Steve.

 

It makes Steve's blood boil and run cold at the same time.

 

"I was there, Steve," he tells Steve softly, as if in confession, and it further fuels the fire in Steve's belly.

 

They'd promised not to lie to each other anymore and here Bucky was, doing it again.

 

Bucky wasn't there. Steve had looked, had searched, had asked around. Bucky had not been there on the day Steve needed him like crazy and he had the gall to lie to Steve about it. He clenches his hands into fists, anger making his vanilla scent acidic, and his angry voice barely carries over the small distance between them. 

 

"Where? Where were you, Bucky?" You were not there when I looked for you. What if I had needed you? I didn't, but what if I had?

 

"If you would've needed me, Stevie, I would've been there in a heartbeat. I was right there with you, watching your back and making sure nothing was too overwhelming for you." The brunet tells him in a soft whisper and Steve's entire world comes crashing down beside him.

 

Bucky wasn't supposed to hear that. Bucky wasn't supposed to know that, he wasn't supposed to know Steve had looked for him. He wasn't supposed to know Steve had been bothered by his absence. He wasn't even supposed to know Steve had ever thought of turning to Bucky for comfort.

 

Bucky wasn't supposed to know that Steve had worried about needing him…

 

When the silence stretches too long, Steve changes the subject. Because even though he never runs from a fight, he wants to run from the look on Bucky's face, from the heart-wrenching sincerity and concern he sees there. He needs to run away from the replay of Bucky saying he'll be there for Steve that's running in his head.

 

He needs to run away the damned illusion he's been creating in his head where Steve admits to needing Bucky and Bucky appears at Steve's side in an instant, only to stay forever.

 

So, he changes the subject, does something he's been doing ever so long.

 

"Watching my back? What does that mean?"

 

"A funeral is a lot of work, flowers and caterers and hearses. There are a thousand calls to be made and a hundred people to be paid. Someone has to look out for all that, Steve, and I couldn't let you or Sarah be burdened by any of it. You guys deserved a day to grieve, not run around looking for the lost crate of cutlery." Bucky tells him quietly and turns away to stare at the same wall Steve spent most of the tonight staring at. Steve too looks back at the wall, but he can't help moving a little closer to Bucky, his scent seeking the comfort of the alpha's scent. 

 

"I could've helped." He tells Bucky and he turns to look at Steve, holds Steve's gaze with his own as he answers.

 

"Sarah needed you and you know that." And just like that Steve knows he's lost this argument, as half-hearted as it had been. He couldn't have helped; his head has been a mess ever since the call from the hospital. He'd hardly put on his tie straight and was in no shape to handle any calls or people for that matter.

 

But he's also too proud to admit to the same.

 

And that's why he's grateful Bucky doesn't point that out, even though that's probably what he wanted to. Steve would've fought him for ever saying Steve couldn't do something, would have kicked his ass for implying Steve was incapable of anything that he himself was. He instead used Sarah as his argument, knowing fully well Steve couldn't deny it if he wanted to.

 

Steve almost cracks a smile at how well Bucky knows him after such a short time.

 

"Thank you so much. But you shouldn't have, Buck, it was my father's funeral, it was my duty to do this for him. You should've let me do it." it's something about the way they're sitting, the low lights in the room and the quiet way they're talking to each other, but Steve can't help the way his eyes keep flitting back to Bucky's face, the way he seems to keep shifting closer.

 

Not just physically. He can feel his scent trying to meld itself to Bucky's scent, can feel it trying to hold on to Bucky's scent, draw it closer to itself.

 

"If I say something, do you promise not to punch me in the face?" the alpha turns to him with a small smile and Steve nods before he registers the question.

 

"I'll try."

 

Bucky nods at his reply but doesn't say anything for a while. Steve frowns at the unusual silence and covers the last few inches between them till he can take Bucky's hand in his and hold it tight.

 

It's permission, it's support, it's comfort. It's whatever Bucky needs because Steve wants to give him everything he needs, wants, loves…

 

"You owed your father no duty to throw a funeral in his honor. He was never your father, Steve, he treated both of you very poorly. He never once acted like a father, he didn't love you like one, he didn't give you the respect you deserved. You didn't owe him shit." The alpha finally says in a quiet voice that has Steve straining his ears to hear.

 

He sits stunned for a second, never dropping Bucky's hand or his gaze from the side of Bucky's face and just continues to stare at the brunet. Stares at him till Bucky slowly turns his head to look at Steve, guilt, apprehension, and concern rapidly changing colors on his face, and stares some more until Bucky drops his gaze to their joined hands.

 

There are a million things Steve ought to say here. Things like ‘no, he's still my father', ‘you have no right to say these things', ‘are you insinuating he loved you more' and a lot more bullshit. But none of them are what he actually wants to say.

 

Because, the way Joseph treated him never made him a father. Yes, Bucky has no right to say these things but he's not wrong and Steve has been waiting to hear these words the whole day. He's been waiting for someone to tell him it is okay to not be the one throwing the funeral. That it is okay to not want to either.

 

And of course, Joseph indeed loved Bucky more.

 

Whatever Bucky said doesn't make Steve want to sprout a bunch of bullshit he doesn't believe in, instead, it makes him rest his head on Bucky's shoulder and draw comfort from his strong scent and comforting presence.

 

It makes him want to tell Bucky everything he's never said out loud and admit things he's never even admitted to himself.

 

And so, he does.

 

After all, they did promise to be honest with each other.

 

So, like every other time in his life, Steve Rogers dives headfirst into his instinct.

 

"He was never always like that, you know?" he waits for a second, what for he doesn't know. Maybe he's also waiting for permission to continue, for support, for comfort, for Bucky to give him the go-ahead. He waits without knowing what for till Bucky draws his hand out of Steve's, and drapes it around his tiny waist. He pulls Steve closer to himself, takes Steve's hands in his metal one and gently draws random patterns on it.

 

Even as Steve blinks away tears at the gesture, there's no stopping the flow of words after that…

 

"He loved me when I was born, adored me, worshipped the ground I walked on. He used to have big dreams for me, dreams of the army and of all the honor and pride I was gonna bring how with me. He used to read me stories of strong army men and their sacrifices, play catch with me when he used to come home from tours, tuck me in bed and dote on me all the time. I was a sickly child, always catching the latest flu or pneumonia and all, and he would sit at my bedside with warm soup and medicines, applying and reapplying cold compress to my head, silently praying for my health. He loved me, Buck, he loved me so much."

 

This time when he stops, it's for a breath, for the strength to continue on. He's never told anybody any of this. Sam knows because Sam, like Bucky, deduced it from Steve or Sarah's state. He has never had anybody in his life he has trusted with his insecurities, the pandora's box of issues Joseph's left him with.

 

But Bucky walked into his life and here Steve is, a few months into his friendship and already trusting him with Steve's story, his past, his fears, his mental scars.

 

"Then puberty came, for all the boys on the block but not me. I remained small and sick and barely useful. My dada was still hopeful, he prayed and hoped for some miracle but everybody else had written me off as an omega. My dad kept his fingers crossed, but somewhere deep down even he knew. The time we spent together lessened day by day. He could hardly stand to be the same room as me when I got sick but he looked at me with pride every time I came home with a broken nose. It gave him some reassurance that maybe all was not lost, but my small stature still troubled him."

 

Bucky's hand tightens around his waist a little and Steve looks up at him to give him a small smile. He can smell the anger starting to sour Bucky's scent and he knows it is only going to get worse from there. Bucky looks down at him but doesn't return Steve's smile. When Steve persists, he quirks his lips a little but doesn't loosen his grip.

 

It's the best Steve's felt in a very long time.

 

"It all culminated when my eighteenth birthday rolled around. Omega! I was an omega. My dad flew in from his latest tour, a leave he had asked for almost a year in advance, his fingers crossed and fervent prayers on his lips. He met some friends of his outside, I think, who told him I was an omega. He didn't take it well."

 

All his courage, his drive to tell Bucky about himself dry up at this point. It's sudden, it's abrupt but he can't go on from here. He closes his eyes tightly and suddenly black spots swim in his vision and his breath starts coming out in long wheezes and short sobs. He tries to breathe normally but his throat feels closed up and it isn't until he hears Bucky's deep voice in his ear that he realizes he's started crying.

 

The brunet wraps both arms around him and gently sways them side to side, making soft shushing sounds and softer comforting sounds to calm the distressed omega. Steve feels more tears prickle the back of his eyes, but he closes his eyes tightly against their assault. He focusses on Bucky's voice, the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his scent. He focusses on the words Bucky was saying, the strength in those arms and the calmness of the scent. It helps him get his breathing under control and control his tears, but Steve doesn't let go of Bucky. He stays in Bucky's embrace and seeks the comfort he's been looking for the entire day.

 

He lets himself be held, even after he is okay and does not need it anymore, but wants it some more.

 

As his tears dry up and he sniffles one last time, Bucky speaks up, his voice still too close to Steve's ear and his arms safe around Steve's body.

 

"You don't have to say anything more, Stevie. You did so well. You don't need to tell me any more, Steve, it is okay. You're okay." He whispers softly and it more than anything makes up Steve's mind. He's going to tell Bucky what he started out to say. He's never been one to back away from a challenge and this wasn't going to be the first time either.

 

So, he shakes his head and launches himself right back into it.

 

"I thought he'd hit me, maybe that he'd starve me, lock me up. He didn't do any of it, Buck, he just smiled at me and told me I wasn't his son. Just like that, just because I was not an alpha, he disowned me. I begged him, pleaded, but he refused to budge. He threw me out of his house and kept my mom away from me for years." he hears Bucky mutter some swears under his breath but the alpha doesn't interrupt his story. He burrows himself further into Bucky's embrace, his leg almost thrown over the alpha's, and draws strength from the deep chocolate scent that's washing over his senses, embracing his scent and holding it just like Bucky's holding Steve.

 

"He's gone now and I don't feel sad, I don't feel grief. Isn't that wrong, Buck? He's my father and he's dead and all I'm feeling is a huge sense of relief. He can't hurt me anymore; he can't hurt my mom. He loved me once upon a time, but I can't even bring myself to mourn the loss of those days. I'm just so relieved, I feel like a monster. What kind of son doesn't cry at his father's funeral? What kind of son finds happiness in his father's casket?" his voice cracks dangerously at the last sentence and he feels Bucky sigh softly.

 

It's the truth Steve's been fighting all day, out in the open for Bucky to dissect and poke. Before hearing the news of his father's death, seeing him lying there in a casket, waiting to be buried, Steve had never felt more relief, more happiness. His father was gone and all Steve could feel was a sense of relief, a belief that all wrongs would be righted now. He hadn't felt any wetness in his eyes and it had taken every ounce of his strength to not say thanks to the Gods. He hadn't felt gut-wrenching and heart numbing pain that everybody feels at the passing of their loved ones, he hadn't felt immeasurable grief cripple him, hadn't felt ineffable throes of separation destroy him. 

 

All he had felt was relief, happiness and a bright beacon of hope for the future.

 

What kind of son was he, rejoicing at his father's death? What kind of son was he, if he could only feel relief over his father's dead body? What kind of a son was he, if his father's death didn't draw tears from him?

 

"There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling, Stevie. Your father does not deserve your tears. He doesn't deserve your grief and he doesn't deserve your guilt. He's treated your mom and you very badly and it is only natural and justified to feel a sense of relief when such a man is no more. You're not a monster for not grieving the loss of a monster, you're human. You've no reason to be sad, Stevie, and every reason to be happy. He's gone and he cannot hurt you or Sarah anymore." Bucky delivered the words right into Steve's core, where they warmed his very heart and soul. He inhaled shakily as he let the warmth of those words thaw the ice in his chest, that's he's been carrying for the past day and a half, and he lets Bucky hold him as he exhales all his energy in a sigh.

 

It's stupid to want Bucky's seal of approval. Dumb and against everything he's ever stood for, but it is Bucky. Bucky's not just anybody anymore. He's…

 

He's become a somebody in Steve's life…

 

"And you? Are you grieving, Buck? Are you sad?" he asks after a while, lifting his head from Bucky's chest and sitting up a little, far enough to look into Bucky's eyes as he speaks, but not far enough for Bucky's hands to fall from around him.

 

"He was a terrible man, Steve. He hurt people I really care about. But he didn't hurt me, he was never a bad man to me. I lost my father really young and the only person who's ever come close to that was Joseph. He cared about me a great deal even during the war, you know. He saved my life. To hate a man who took a bullet for me, would be the biggest sin I could commit. Today was a confusing day, I didn't know what to feel. Some part of me cried for the second father I lost, some part rejoiced at the death of the man who hurt you and Sarah." Bucky tells him honestly and though a part of Steve wants to stamp his foot and tell Bucky to hate Joseph, he knows that makes no sense.

 

Joseph was nothing, if not a perfect father figure to Bucky. He saved Bucky's life. And Bucky is correct. How can you hate the man who saves your life? How do you hate him for what he did to others when what he did for you was taking a fucking bullet and saving your life?

 

But Bucky still hates Joseph for what he did to Sarah and Steve because he cares about them.

 

And that is enough for Steve to know what to say to him…

 

"I don't expect you to hate him for what he did to my ma and I, Buck, you're allowed to like him." And he means it too, Bucky's allowed to like people for how they behave with him, not with Steve.

 

Caring aside, Steve's not important enough in Bucky's life to make him hate or like other people.

 

"He was a bad man, Steve. A person who doesn't treat their family right is not one to be liked. He treated you guys like shit and I would hate myself if I sympathize with him. No one deserves hate for the way they were born or who they are and if Joseph couldn't understand that, then he has no place in my heart for himself." Bucky tells him with a small smile and Steve has a hard time controlling the urge to lean over and close the space between them.

 

He's so close, he can see the shadow Bucky's eyelashes cast on his cheekbones, can see the tiny crows' feet by his eyes, can count the wrinkles by his lips.

 

He can see that the blue of Bucky's eyes has a little grey in them and he can see the sincerity and care that makes them shine.

 

He can see the day-long stubble decorating his face and he can see the bobbing of Bucky's Adam's apple.

 

He's in so deep for this wonderful man and yet every day he finds himself falling deeper.

 

"Thank you. For everything, Buck. I know I say this all the time, but I mean it every time too. Thank you so much." He says instead of all the things he wants to say and hopes Bucky can read between the lines and also that he never knows what Steve means by those words.

 

Thank you for being the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time, thank you for showing me not all alphas are assholes. Thank you for being so sweet and kind. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for giving me a chance to be this close to you. Thank you for all the things you make me feel. Thank you for the comfort and safety that you provide me with. Thank you for so many things that I don't have the words to thank you for. Thank you, thank you, thank you…

 

"For everything? Care to elaborate?" Bucky asks with a small smile and Steve doesn't need to think about his answer.

 

"For being here right now. For giving my ma and I a roof over our heads. For being such a good man. For listening and not judging. For being you, I guess. You being you is nice, I like you."

 

"I like you for you too, Stevie. Now get some sleep, you're very tired." He tells the blonde with a small smile. Steve open his mouth to disagree but a yawn negates any argument he was gonna make. Bucky shakes his head fondly and gently lowers Steve onto the bed, pulling his blanket up as he goes and tucking Steve in tightly.

 

Steve looks up at him and smiles, his eyes heavy with sleep and words already slurred.

 

"Will you stay?" when Bucky hesitates for a second, Steve backtracks and mentally berates himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's okay, I'm a big boy, I can sleep alone." He moves to turn around and escape Bucky's gaze but the alpha traps him by putting his hands next to Steve's head on his pillow and giving him a fond, exasperated smile.

 

"Slow down, punk, let me go change out of my uniform and then I'll come and take my place next to you. Okay?"

 

"Thank you, Buck," Steve whispers one last time and feels his eyes droop some more. He feels Bucky stand up from the bed and hears a chuckle as the brunette moves towards the door.

 

"Yeah, you already said that."

 

"And I meant that," Steve says through a barely stifled yawn as his eyes closed and he drifted off to deep slumber.

 

He doesn't hear Bucky come back in. Doesn't hear Bucky murmur a soft goodnight to him. Doesn't hear Bucky get under the covers with him.

 

But he wakes up to Bucky on the other side of his bed and a small smile comes over his face. This had to be the best sight to wake up to and it was made all the better when a small yawn comes over Bucky's features and he opens his eyes to smile at Steve.

 

"Good morning, Stevie. Sleep well?"

(*)   

Notes:

Me @ me: stop hurting Steve. You've already hurt him so much.
Me: Lets kill his father, make him feel super guilty about being happy about it, and then make him cry.
Me @ me: -_-

Chapter 22: My Heart, or My Home?

25th April 2020

 

Steve didn't know how to quantify the past few days. He had spent most of that time with Bucky, their bond having gotten stronger after Steve's impromptu confession, and he had hardly felt the grief and guilt he had been feeling a few days back. It had been a mere four days since Joseph's death, but Steve was already happier, freer and safer than he had ever been. The sun shone a little brighter, smiles came a little easier, his heart felt a little lighter.

 

The only thing that still troubled Steve was the fact that he hadn't seen Sarah ever since the funeral. His mother had locked herself in her bedroom, hardly appearing for meals or water and it worried him immensely. He had knocked on her door multiple times, had called out to her, had taken food and water up to her but she refused to even get out of her room.

 

It was Bucky who told him to give her a little space, a little time. Steve didn't want to comply, he hardly wanted to acknowledge the advice, but he had given in by the second day. If his mother wanted some space, he would give her that. Steve was no Joseph, he understood people, understood their choices, their decisions, and along with understanding, he respected that. Just because Steve needed his mother, didn't mean she needed him. If some alone time was what she needed, he would give her that.

 

Bucky's proud smile at Steve's acquiesce didn't make him feel any better about any of this though. (Steve's a liar, it definitely did.)

 

Steve sat in his room, book open on his lap and eyes scouring and devouring the pages hungrily. He had already read the Lord of The Rings, but it seemed to get better with time. Each time he read it, he met the characters all over again, got introduced to them again, fell in love with them over again. The saying familiarity breeds contempt didn't hold the truth in this matter; familiarity was what Steve loved about rereading the book.

 

Hence, it was no surprise that when a knock sounded on the door, Steve was not too happy about it. 

 

He groaned to himself and begrudgingly bookmarked the page he was currently reading. He trudged half-heartedly to the door and threw it open with as much contempt as his all American, pale, angular face and doe eyes allowed.

 

The sight of the person on the other end made all his annoyance disappear. His scent perked up a little too, relief and a little happiness making its way into pleasant vanilla.

 

"Mom?" it comes out a little strained and unbelieving and Steve cringes the moment he hears it. It doesn't sound welcoming, doesn't even sound pleasantly surprised. It outright sounds incredulous and doubting and it leaves no doubt in Steve's mind that Sarah will not want to stay after hearing such a tone.

 

But she surprises him by smiling softly and gently pushing back an unruly lock of hair from his forehead.

 

"You seem surprised to see me, Stevie," she tells him with a little smile and Steve immediately shakes his head.

 

"No, that's not-"

 

"True? I've been a shitty parent and I know that, sweetheart. You don't have to defend me and my behavior. I'm sorry, Stevie, I really am," she tells him softly and the atmosphere in the room shifts to that of guilt and grief again. Steve moves to shake his head again, but Sarah stops him with a hand on his cheek, her caress soft and her words softer. "You needed me and I wasn't there, Stevie, even though it is my duty to be. I was supposed to be strong for you the way you always have been for me, but instead, I ran away and locked myself up in a room. It is unfair to you, Stevie, you deserve better. I haven't been a good parent these past couple of days and I need to apologize for that. I'm sorry, Stevie, ma will be here for you always. She wasn't in the past, but that changes now. Now, it is you and I, honey, a team, I promise."

 

Steve blinks up at the ceiling as his eyes burn a little but he doesn't cry. He had been strong for his mother, but he doesn't understand why she feels the need to thank him for that. He didn't do her a favor, she's his mother, it is his duty to be there for her whenever and however she needs him. The fact that she hadn't done the same for him, throughout his life and even after Joseph's passing, had hurt a lot, but he had taken it in stride as he did everything. His mom needed some time alone and he understood that; he still understands that.

 

Everybody processes their grief in different ways and if for Sarah that way was to shut herself away and not seek Steve's help, then Steve would accept that, no matter his adverse feelings to it.

 

But the fact that his ma felt guilty about it? That Steve wouldn't allow.

 

"You don't have to apologize, ma, I understand what you were going through. You deserved some time to grieve, sometimes alone. I understand that," he tells her as sincerely as he can because all of it is not true. He can understand her method of grieving, the fact that's he shut him away, but he cannot understand why she grieved.

 

Why grieve for a man like Joseph? Why shed tears for a corpse that was as rotten in life as it was in death? Why suffer in solitude when the death of such a man was an occasion for celebration, for rejoicement? Why was Joseph worthy of Sarah's tears, when he had been the cause of it for the better part of her life?

 

He wanted to know the answers for each one of them, for every one of them, but he held his tongue. His ma didn't need a police interrogation now, she needed reassurance from her son that all was well between them and that was exactly what Steve had given.

 

But Sarah was after all his mother. She knew Steve inside out, his makings, his thoughts, every essence that basically made him. She took a second to look at Steve, her gaze boring into his eyes till he averted them and then the side of his face. She stood quietly for a minute, her breath even and calm but her scent suddenly not calm enough for Steve's liking.

 

She stepped into Steve's room and took a seat on the foot of his bed and beckoned for him to do the same. Steve took a seat beside his mother, but didn't meet her gaze, couldn't bring himself to. The two omegas sat in silence for a while and it was Sarah who finally broke the silence. 

 

"Do you understand, Steve? Do you understand why I was mourning for a man like your father? Why I grieved for the man who hurt us so much?" Her eyes were fixed to the side of his face and Steve's eyes burned a hole in the floor beneath his feet. He didn't know how to answer her question, how to avoid her eyes and the questions. He wanted to scream his negation to her face but he couldn't, couldn't bring himself to be so cruel to her.

 

"No, I don't. But I don't need to. It's between you and him, and my opinions and thoughts don't matter. It was your choice, ma, and what I think about it doesn't matter." He finally met her eyes as he spoke and immediately regretted the action as he saw the wetness in Sarah's eyes. He moved forward to comfort her but she just shook her head and took both his hands in her own. 

 

"It matters to me, sweetheart, you matter to me. I want you to know why I grieved, why I shut myself away. I want you to be part of my choice, for you to be aware. Do you want that, Stevie? Do you want to know?"

 

"Yeah…okay."

 

"I grieved because I loved him once. Don't get me wrong, I don't love your father anymore, haven't in a really long time, but there was once an age where I loved him with every fiber of my being; when he brightened up my whole day by just being there. His smile was my kryptonite and his eyes the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a long time ago, but I loved him. I mourned for that love. I grieved for everything he could have been but wasn't. I grieved when I thought of the man who was no longer any less than a monster, I grieved because you lost your father. I grieved because I couldn't understand the immense relief flooding through me, the sense of safety I felt when I saw him lifeless. I cried because my mating bond hurt, but not my heart." She paused to wipe her eyes and meet Steve's watery ones. "I don't expect you to understand what I am saying, Stevie, I don't expect you to see the justice in it. Joseph did not deserve my tears nor yours and I am glad he only got to have one of those. But you must remember, I never cried for the man who died, I cried for the man who was born and who he could've been."

 

And maybe that shouldn't have been enough of a justification to cry at Joseph's funeral, shouldn't have been enough of anything to be of use to Steve. His father was one of the worst people to have ever lived and Sarah should never have wasted any tears on him. But she did and that hurt Steve. But, what his mother did, or didn't do, or even thought, was none of his business. As she once told him, it was her choice and he had no right to dictate right and wrong. He may never understand it, but it was her choice and that was enough for him.

 

"I…I do understand, ma. I understand the guilt that comes from feeling a sense of relief from a tragic event, I understand the guilt that comes with the feeling of ‘finally'. I don't understand all of what you said, cannot understand falling in love with a man like that, but that is more from me having never fallen in love or having had a mating bond, but I want to understand. But, also, I don't. You said that's the reason and I believe you, that's enough for me. I lost a shitty father, you lost somebody more. It was your choice and that's all that matters to me."

 

Sarah met his eyes with tears streaming down hers and he immediately pulled her into his arms. Over the past few months, this was how all their conversations were going and Steve was positive that it was bound to change now. The reason for all their tears and their grief was finally gone and they both had done their fair share of grieving for him. They'll not forget Joseph, can't after all that he's put them through, but he will remain just a blurry half-forgotten nightmare. His image will never accompany the tears of yearning, but the sneers of hatred. Sarah and Steve will both remember Joseph, but with hate and at times pain, never with love.

 

"When did you grow up so much, sweetheart? When did you cease being my baby?" Sarah asked with tears streaming down Steve's shoulder and her hands tightly wound against his torso. Steve held her back with the same strength and fear to let go as he answered. 

 

"I'm still your baby, ma, just a little cynical, a little jaded, a little tired."

 

"I am so sorry, Stevie, I'm so, so sorry. I took your childhood from you, your youth and forced you to grow up faster. You never had a childhood and I'm so sorry about it. You grew up so quickly, you lost your innocence and naivety, and it is all my fault. I'm so sorry, Stevie, I'm so sorry," Sarah's voice was barely a whisper as she babbled her apologies and Steve held a little tighter as if he could put an end to the apologies through his will power alone.

 

"It is all in the past, ma, we're moving forward now. There's no one to hurt us anymore, nobody we have to be afraid of. We get to start our lives afresh and I don't want it to start with apologies and clarifications. A new slate, new us. This time we start with smiles on our face." He felt strong, almost invincible as he pulled back from the hug and Sarah beamed at him in return. Their scents, rose water and vanilla, rose from where they drowned in grief and guilt, to the soaring heights of hope.

 

"Yeah, baby, new slate, new us. I even have an idea where we can start," Sarah agreed enthusiastically and Steve was already jumping in before she could finish.

 

"Is it with new haircuts? Cause that's what the kids are doing these days."

 

"Maybe later." She took a deep breath and let it go. "I was thinking about moving out from here."

 

The vanilla scent crashed from its height and plunged back to a state of shock.

 

Moving out from here would mean away from Bucky, away from Pietro. Bucky, who was becoming something Steve had only ever dreamt of before and Pietro, who was slowly becoming one of Steve's closest friends. Bucky, who threw Steve's dad's funeral when Steve couldn't and Pietro, who stood by Steve's side during all of that. Bucky, who was Steve's shoulder to cry on and a solid, comforting presence and Pietro, who fed him and kept him sane during his heat. Bucky and Pietro, who considered him family and treated him as an equal, with love, respect, and so much affection.

 

Bucky…

 

He had become something more than friends. He was Steve's…Steve's chosen one. He was everything Steve wanted in a mate, a husband. He was Steve's husband, through some cruel hand of fate. He was so much more than just another alpha, he was Bucky, Steve's home.

 

He had become Steve's home, hadn't he?

 

And how do you move away from your home?

 

"What," Steve asked blankly as his mind worked hard to wrap around the idea.

 

He couldn't have heard that correctly, it couldn't be true. Not now, not when everything was going so well…

 

"Your dad's gone, Stevie, and our home awaits us. It belongs to us now; we don't have to depend on James anymore. We can finally stand on our own damn feet. You've got your job and I'll look for one. Just the two of us, like it should've been a long time ago if I had dared to walk away. No more living dependent on alphas, just you and I." And that made sense. And Steve hated that it made sense.

 

Above everything he hated that it made his mom smile, that it made her scent light up, that it brought out the light in her eyes that Steve thought his father had extinguished long back.

 

Jesus! He would do anything for that light to stay, for his mom to keep smiling like this. If all he had to do was go back home with her and live there, something he had been dying to do since he was goddamn eighteen years old, then he would do it in a heartbeat. Bucky and everybody else be damned. He fought whatever his scent was doing, plastered a smile on his face and nodded as enthusiastically as his neck allowed. 

 

"Mom…that's very good."

 

"It will be our new beginning, Stevie, you don't object do you? A lot of young adults don't like living with their parents. You gonna be okay with that?"

 

"Yeah." He fought through the words as his throat choked up, but he managed to make it sound somewhat convincing. "I'm looking forward to it."

 

"I'm so glad, baby. I already spoke to James about the divorce, I'll run this by him too. Or do you wanna do it?" Sarah asked with the same twinkle in her eyes, her scent dancing in joy and all Steve could do was fixate on one word.

 

"Divorce?"

 

"You guys are married, remember? I guess it is kind of hard to remember that your meeting had not been under the best of circumstances. It's okay, sweetheart, he said he'll handle it."

 

The divorce from Bucky. Of course, he remembered he was married to Bucky. Of course, he remembered that he has, and doesn't have the alpha at the same time. Bucky is his on paper, but in reality, he was never to be Steve's. Perfect men like Bucky don't belong with people like Steve and even if they do end up together by some luck, fate reminds them of their depravities; separates them to set order back in the universe. Bucky would give Steve a divorce and then Steve would move out of the house, their home. That would be the end of their friendship, the end of everything they could've been in another life. There will be no reason for Steve to have any further contact with Bucky, after all, whatever they had was because of what his father did, not because they wanted it. Once they're out of the same house and out of their marriage, why would somebody like Bucky ever want to keep in touch with somebody like Steve?

 

Steve didn't cry, even as his scent wailed and his mom's brows furrowed.

 

"Okay." His voice wavered but he pretended not to notice it as he smiled wide.

 

"You look very pale, Stevie, you okay?"

 

"I am not feeling well, maybe I'll lie down," he lied even though it didn't feel like a lie. He wasn't feeling ill, but he definitely wasn't feeling well. He wouldn't for a long time either. His entire world seemed to be spinning as he contemplated the end of his…something…with Bucky and that weighed heavily on him. He would definitely be lying down, but instead of resting, he'll think about everything and anything under the sun.

 

"Okay. I'll let James know that we're moving out." Steve dry heaved suddenly and Sarah put her hand on his forehead. "Steve? You sure there's nothing your mom needs to know?" her voice and face spoke volumes of her worry but Steve wouldn't and couldn't let her worry anymore about him when his issue was so small, so futile in front of everything she had ever gone through. He put on a fake smile and softly held onto his mother's wrist.

 

"No, ma, nothing."

 

Sarah looked at him in disbelief but didn't press any further. She placed a soft kiss to his forehead and lay him down his bed. She pulled the sheets up to his shoulders, pressed another brief kiss to his forehead and whispered a good night before she made her way to the door.

 

"Mom…"  Steve called out to her as she left and held his breath as she turned. He knew he had to ask, had to suggest, but it didn't make it any better.

 

"Yeah, sweetheart?" she turned as she paused to switch off the light and Steve drew in a barely perceptible huff of breath.

 

"Do you think there's time for therapy in our new beginning?"

 

"Therapy?" she turned fully and fixed her gaze on his prostrate form. Steve could read her face but he could read the apprehension in her scent, the fear of the unknown.

 

"I just thought…"  he began but she cut him off.

 

"Will you be there with me? Mother-son bonding time, maybe?"

 

"Of course, ma," he replied without thinking because he didn't have to. He would do it for her. Anything she wanted, anything he needed, hell anything she so much as desired for. Steve didn't believe that he was fit for therapy; he wasn't scarred enough by his father, but if his presence is the incentive his mother needed then he would do it.

 

He would do anything for her…

 

"Okay, I'll think about it. Sleep well, baby," she replied swiftly and walked away from the room. Steve had no doubt he wouldn't be the only one lying awake at night, but somehow, he was okay with that. If his mom gave it some serious thought, then she might just agree to it. and he really hoped she did.

 

She deserved it, she deserved everything good in the world.

 

Even at the cost of Steve's own happiness, his choice…

 

 

Notes:

Guess which bitch is celebrating her b'day in two days? That's right, it's this bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 23: Home Calls Me Stevie

Notes:

Grammarly just called this "a bit bland", so my confidence is really high -_-
Thanks, grammarly, appreciate it!!!!

26th of April, 01: 02 AM

 

Steve tosses and turns in bed the whole night. He tries counting sheep, the number of times his father has disappointed him, the number of times he's recklessly picked a fight, the number of times he's had nose bleeds and the number of times someone's said something sexist to him, but none of them put him to sleep. He tries rocking himself to sleep, something he has successfully done in the past and even tries reading some dumb article online to fall asleep, but none of them work. All he can think of through all these mind-numbing activities is the fact that he's leaving home soon and he's in no shape or form to go through that loss.

 

It's funny when he thinks about the fact that losing his father didn't seem like such a big deal.

 

It's funnier when he thinks about the fact that he's actually going home, not leaving one.

 

But the thing is, Bucky is not Joseph. He's not Steve's asshole of a father who abandoned him the second he turned out to be an omega and shunned him away from his life. No, Bucky welcomed Steve into his house knowing he was omega, married him even though he could've very well not paid heed to Joseph, made sure Steve was looked after and cared for even though his heat and asthma, gave Steve a place in his home and heart, and did not shun Steve even when he got a boyfriend he loves and a chance to have a family of his own.

 

Bucky is everything Joseph was not. He's everything that Sarah wanted in her husband and Steve wants in his partner. Bucky, for a lack of a better word, is perfect.

 

And that's a problem for Steve.

 

Steve is drowning in…feelings. There are words he could use here, words that would describe what he's feelings but that guarantee to make him lose what little sleep he has a chance of getting, and Steve's…well he's not ready to be that vulnerable. Even with himself.

 

Bucky's not Joseph and that means he's light years out of Steve's league.

 

Not that that matters either. Bucky's happy with Pietro, he's in love with the beta and Steve needs to accept that with a smile on his face and nothing but happiness and gratitude in his heart. He needs to be a friend to both Bucky and Pietro, he needs to support them and wish them the best, but at the end of the day, Steve's just human. And feeling something very strong for Bucky.

 

Not that he will ever say it out loud.

 

And now, he's leaving. He's gonna walk out of the first house that has ever felt like a home and he's gonna leave behind his friends too. He's gonna walkout from the warm homely smell of a little vanilla mixed with chocolate and a bit of fresh earth, into the stench of a fractured childhood and tears mixed with endless pain and loss. He doesn't wanna leave this behind, doesn't want it to another closed chapter in his life. He doesn't want to walk away from his morning walks with Bucky, his bi-weekly gaming session with Pietro, his new tradition of visiting the VA, breakfast with all of them, Natasha and Clint's surprise visits, and so much more. He…he doesn't want to leave behind the life he has made here with Bucky. He's found peace in their Brooklyn 99 reruns, their fight over whose pancakes are the best (Bucky's, by a landslide, but Steve will never let a fight go), who has the better playlist to walk to (Steve's, no doubt), and the casual comfort and reassurance they have learned to give each other just through scent and a look.

 

Steve's not ready to walk away from any of this, but he knows walking away from Bucky will prove the hardest.

 

Eventually, sometime after one he gives up his quest for sleep and leaves his room for a glass of water. He pads down the stairs barefoot and rubs his eyes when they take to long to adjust to the darkness of the house. Fitting, Steve thinks and sighs forlornly at the thought.

 

The house is not gonna miss him and just the fact that he thought so makes it clear how much sleep he's lacking.

 

Once his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he sees a figure sitting on the couch, silhouette outlined by the light of a cell phone in their hands and identity verified by the smell of chocolate. Steve would know that smell in his sleep. 

 

 "Oh, you're awake." He states and Bucky jumps a little at the unexpected sound. He turns around and rubs the back of his neck as he looks up at the omega and Steve smiles a little apologetically at him.

 

"Umm, yeah. I was on the phone with Pietro; I didn't realize that time slipped away from me." he awkwardly gestures towards the phone in his hand and Steve nods at that.

 

Of course, he was up late talking to his boyfriend, not worrying about his real/fake husband leaving. Steve's not that important, never will be.

 

But he wants to be.

 

"Oh, of course. How's he doing? Haven't seen him in a while."

 

"College's kicking his ass but he's having fun. And as a new member of the track and field team, he's a little busy to come by. He's asked me to convey his ‘sup' to you." Bucky's voice takes on a questioning tone at the end of the sentence and Steve can't help the smile that crosses his face at that.

 

"Tell him I said ‘sup' back."

 

"You know when we were your age, we had to communicate in like full sentences. Like school legitimately taught you that. Heaven knows what you kids are learning in school these days!" at the exaggeration in Bucky's voice, Steve laughs, a full-bellied, that Steve didn't know he was capable of in his present state. He steps forward to punch the brunet's shoulder softly and takes a seat next to him on the couch.

 

"Fuck you! You're like five years elder to us."

 

"What's that, son? I couldn't hear you. Let me put on my hearing aids." Bucky even puts up a show of taking out invisible aids and putting them on, all the while spotting a shit-eating grin on his face. Steve sticks his tongue out at the brunet and makes a shooing gesture at him.

 

"You take all the fun out of teasing you. It's fun when we call you an old man, but it's not fun when you do the same. Stop. Playing. Along. With. The. Jokes." He punctuates the words with an over the top eye roll and Bucky nods along sympathetically.

 

"Yes, I do think I might be too old to play now. Gotta rest them old hips of mine."

 

Steve wants to punch him. In his beautiful face or even his lips, with his lips. This man is infuriating and Steve…Steve's so gone on him.

 

"You're the worst. Sam thinks I'm a little piece of shit, he's obviously not known you as well as I do."

 

"I guess you do know me better than he does." Bucky's voice goes uncharacteristically low and melancholic as he speaks and suddenly all the playfulness in the room disappears. He drops his eyes to the rug for a second before he brings them back up to meet Steve's. Steve has to swallow at the look on Bucky's face, something strong beneath the surface but just a careful mask on the outside. The chocolate scent in the room dips from happy to vulnerable at a frightening speed and it makes Steve's heart race. "That's weird considering he has known me longer." Bucky finishes softly and Steve has to avert his eyes from the brunet.

 

It's hard to look at Bucky's eyes on a normal day, but in the dark when they glow and shine as they seem to accuse Steve? Then it's impossible to meet their gaze.

 

"It's funny that we've known each other for less than two months." Steve manages to get out his words through the lump in his throat but he doesn't manage to convince himself to look back at Bucky. he never runs away from a fight, but he's ready to dash out of here.

 

There's something in the air around them, something that seems heavy and drawn out, something that needs to be addressed, but they both don't want to address it. They both are tiptoeing around it, unaware and clueless as to what it is, but with a mutual conviction that it's probably best left unperturbed.

 

"Feels like longer doesn't it?" Bucky asks and Steve can hear him swallow back something more. His voice is so soft, it hardly carries across the small space between them, but still settles heavily in Steve's chest.

 

Like my whole life…

 

He knows he's only allowed to think those words, not say them out loud. Bucky doesn't need to know how much Steve's pining, how much he's willing to believe he's known Bucky all his life, will know him for the rest too. He doesn't want Bucky to know that Steve can't bring himself to believe there was ever a time when Bucky was not part of his life. Because everything about Steve's life got better after Bucky became a part of it.

 

So, he shifts gear uses humor as his coping mechanism and runs from wherever this conversation is going.

 

"Well, they do say that torture seems a lot longer than it actually is." He smiles half-heartedly at Bucky as he says it, but he doesn't feel the humor the way he is supposed to. The words stick to his throat and hurt him, make him hurt in a way he hasn't been hurt in a long time. The actual words on the tip of his tongue try to claw their way out, but Steve doesn't let them. He keeps his mouth shut and heart under lock and key.

 

"You think it was torturous?" There's a vulnerability in Bucky's voice, in the air around them, and it seems as if he believes the bullshit Steve's spewing. Steve rushes to shake his head, to grab Bucky's hand, and make his voice convey all the feelings he's been burying for the past few hours, days, weeks…

 

"It was the best month and a half of my life. It's still hard for me to believe that I've only known you for that long. Feels like so long…"

 

Like forever…

 

He doesn't say it, his screwed ideas of masculinity and vulnerability don't let him say it, but Bucky has no such qualms.

 

"Like forever, right?"  he asks, eyes bright and voice hopeful, and Steve can't help but smile when the hand he's holding closes tighter against him. He nods with a bright and watery smile, his voice giving away hints of tears when it wavers.

 

"Yeah."

 

"I wish it could be longer. I…" Bucky begins, but he doesn't continue, just shakes his head and gives Steve a smile he knows is fake. Steve squeezes his hands tighter, pulls himself a little closer and tries to catch Bucky's eyes with his own.

 

"You what, Buck?" he asks because he needs to know, needs to know what Bucky was going to say. His voice is drowning in hope and the thrumming of vanilla in the room is so strong, Steve can taste it on his tongue. Hope is a dangerous thing, but Steve's heart is not his anymore, it isn't listening to him anymore. It's beating according to the words coming from Bucky's mouth, it's beating for Bucky, not Steve.

 

"I…" – the brunet takes a deep breath – "I don't want you to leave, Steve. It's so selfish and self-concentrated to even wish that, and I'm so sorry for it, but I really do want you to stay. I had to tell you how I feel and I don't want you to leave. Stay, please stay. I'm so sorry."

 

"You want me to stay?" His voice wavers and he hates it. He's been hoping for this, but to hear it from Bucky's mouth? Steve's floating before he even knows it.

 

He's got it so bad for Bucky, and he knows this because he's already thinking about staying. Forever, if that's what Bucky asks of him. He's made promises to his mother, but…

 

What has he become? When did he get so selfish? He shakes his head to himself and focuses on Bucky's very blue eyes; ones that seem to twinkle in the minimum light that graces their living room from the streetlights across the street.

 

Steve knows it's a bad idea the moment his heart lurches again.

 

"Yes…and no. I know how important this move is for the two of you. That house has finally become your home and that's such a great thing to have happened. I'm so happy for you guys, no two people in this world deserve this more. But, I'm greedy, Stevie, I…I've-" Bucky stops again and Steve is sure by now even the alpha can hear the heavy thundering of Steve's heart. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and asks in as much of a clear voice as he can.

 

"You've what, Bucky?"

 

"Doesn't matter. I have no right to demand anything from you. Please forget I said any of that; I'm happy for you, Stevie, so happy. What are your plans for your new home? It could use a fresh coat of paint." He smiles at Steve but Steve's not ready to let go of the conversation now. He wants to say something, anything, but only two things come to his mind.

 

That's not my home.

 

My home is here with you…

 

But he can't say either to Bucky, can't let Bucky know how weak he has become, how vulnerable the alpha leaves him. Admitting them to Bucky is basically confessing his…no, Steve's gotta look out for his mother now. Bucky can wait, his home can wait, his mom can't.

 

"Stevie…" by the breaking of Bucky's voice Steve knows he said both those things out loud. He can see the sheen return to Bucky's eyes, can see him itching to pull Steve into his arms and urge him to stay. And Steve wants to allow him to do both.

 

He hadn't meant to say it loud, hadn't even meant to say it at all, even in his head. But he doesn't have it in him to take it back, so he doesn't.

 

"I never had brothers or sisters growing up and that made childhood a very lonely time. Kids at school were not interested in the little kid who got into way too many fights and who had to take leave every two weeks with a new illness. Then da-Joseph threw me out and the cycle of loneliness just never ended. Don't get me wrong, Sam was always there, but he had a social life outside me and it wasn't like I had a lot of time to spend with him either. But then, you happened…I can't stay, Buck, I really can't. I've got to be there for my mom right now, but I wish with all my heart that things were different, that I didn't have to leave. This is hard for me too, you…you changed my life and it's not an exaggeration. I…I was so alone, so lonely and you changed it. You're…I…what am I trying to say here?" he sighs in frustration, but Bucky just gives him a small smile, like he knows what Steve is thinking. He pulls Steve closer, ducks his head so he's looking right into Steve's eyes, their noses mere inches from touching and whispers; so close to Steve's mouth, Steve can kiss each word that leaves those lips.

 

"No more loneliness?"

 

"Yeah, no more loneliness." He agrees and Bucky's answering grin makes his moment of vulnerability, of weakness worth every second. He gives Bucky a smile that he returns before the alpha sits back a little and starts speaking with a shy little smile.

 

"Yesterday when I was shopping at the grocery, the smell of vanilla from the bakery hit me and all I could think was that it smelled like home. It was out of the blue but I didn't even question it, just smiled and walked away. Somewhere, sometime along the ride, you became home, your presence became a comfort and I wanna thank you for that, Stevie. I wanna thank you for being there during my nightmare, for being so caring and sweet all the time, for putting up with Nat, Clint, and Pietro. Thank you for humoring my Brooklyn 99 obsession and not being put off by my disregard for coffee. I'm not gonna stop you from leaving, I've no right, but you're my friend and I'm gonna miss you. I'm gonna miss you so much…" he confesses in a soft voice and Steve hates that it is this confession that finally makes his eyes water for real. He doesn't pull his hands away from Bucky to wipe his eyes but he hastily blinks before they have a chance to leave his eyes.

 

He stares down at their intertwined hands till something pops into his head and he is forced to lift his head and face Bucky again.

 

"This…this doesn't have to end, right? We'll still be friends even after I move out?"

 

"No. We'll be best friends," Bucky reassures him with a fond smile and Steve finds it harder to fight back his tears.

 

"I'm gonna miss you too, Buck. So much. Somewhere along the line, you became home too." he tells him quietly and Bucky doesn't respond in words, just pulls Steve into his arms and holds him tight. Neither of them says anything for a few seconds but Steve doesn't mind, he's home, content and happy.

 

They pull back after a while and they both struggle to meet each other's eyes till Bucky clears his throat and gives Steve a shit-eating grin again.

 

"Getting a little sappy there, Rogers."

 

"Getting a little teary-eyed there, old man," Steve responds while he pulls the collar of his t-shirt a little higher, dabs a little at the moisture under his eyes.

 

"It because of age. What's your excuse?" Bucky retorts and Steve answers as fast as a bullet.

 

"I'm sleep deprived."

 

"You'll always have a home here, Stevie, if you ever want." Bucky's voice turns soft again and Steve smile at the brunet itches to pull him back in Steve's arms and never let go. But instead, he smiles and nods.

 

"Thank you. I don't know what else to say."

 

"Call me a jerk and go to sleep, punk."

 

"Jerk. Goodnight, Buck. Sweet dreams." Steve rises from the couch and turns towards the kitchen while Bucky nods at him and looks down at his phone, his smile a lot smaller than it was a minute ago.

 

"Goodnight, Stevie." Steve nods at him again and makes his way to the kitchen, knowing fully well that Bucky wouldn't be there on the couch when Steve goes back. And he's okay with it, because he knows if he sees soft, rumbled Bucky who called him home one more time after that talk, he'll throw his arms around him and confess all his darkest secrets, beg for him to let Steve stay and to become Steve's…so much more.

 

Neither of them notices Sarah standing at the end of the staircase, watching them with tears in her own eyes.

 

Notes:

ARE THESE ASSHOLES BLIND?!?!?!? WHO THINKS IT'S PLATONIC TO JUST SMELL THE OTHER AND THINK "AHHH HOME". URGHHHH I'M SO MAD AT THEM!

Chapter 24: She's Got Your Back, Son!!!

28th April 2020

Steve's stuffing his clothes into his duffel when the knock on the door comes. He stops when the sound reaches him and takes a second to look around the room. It's a mess, to say the least. His clothes are strewn around the bed and his bedroom floor, his pencils, and watercolors are all knocked over his study table, and his drawings are thrown hazardously over every surface of the room.

 

He didn't mean to make such a mess, but he couldn't help himself.

 

He's been trying to pack his things for the past two days; he has been trying to tell himself that packing faster means moving out faster but it's that very thought that keeps sabotaging his plans again and again. He can't…he can't put his things away, simply because he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to leave this home and he's been taking out that frustration on everything he could find: his art supplies, his drawings, his clothes, and on one memorable incident, his suitcase too. It's still sporting a beautiful dent from that, just like Steve's heart, but neither is it because of a kick nor will any amount of money replace it.

 

He rubs his eyes furiously and shakes his head. He's not this…he's not whoever he has become. He's better than this; he doesn't lose his cool like this because of an alpha. He doesn't behave like moving houses is the worst thing that's happened to him.

 

He doesn't know who he has become, but he doesn't recognize this Steve. 

 

He storms to his door and throws it open. The scent of rose water hits his senses and he unconsciously takes a step back before he can stop himself, and immediately berates that action.

 

"Can we talk baby?"

 

Steve nods before he can think about it and backs away from the doorway. Sarah steps into the room and her eyes immediately fly to the mess Steve's made. She stares blankly at the crumbled remains of Steve's drawings and turns towards Steve with a subtle throat clearing. The sound propels the young omega into motion and he races to get his stuff off the floor.

 

"Sorry, ma, let me just put this away." He's halfway through throwing away his crumbled drawings when Sarah speaks up from behind him, her voice monotone and devoid of emotion.

 

"Were you packing?"

 

"Yeah. I know we aren't leaving until a few days but I thought I might just start putting some things away. It's funny how I've literally uprooted and built my whole life here in a month." He laughs dryly but doesn't turn around. It's hard to lie to his mother, but to do it to her face is near impossible, and as stubborn as Steve is, he's not stubborn enough to pull that off.

 

"Maybe we'll need a little time longer, Stevie," she replies after a while, her voice tired and weary and this time Steve turns around to read her face.

 

It's blank, there's nothing there to let Steve know of where she's going with this. 

 

"No, ma. I spoke to the guy who's in charge of the paint job today morning and he said they could handle it in two days and then the drying could be done in about three days or less. We can move into our home in a week, max."

 

"We're not going back to that house, Stevie, I can't." She shakes her head vehemently and sits down on the edge of Steve's bed. The young omega waits for her to continue, but after a minute of pregnant silence, it becomes clear that she's not going to explain herself.

 

He takes a seat next to her, close enough to let her know he's there, but far enough to give her some space. He doesn't know when he realized she doesn't always need him around, that she needs her space, but he did and he's learned to respect that.

 

Even on days he doesn't want to; like today.

 

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

 

"I went back there today morning when you were telling me about how the house needed a bit of paint. The first thought I had about the house when I saw it was that it was so ugly, so…unhappy. Then I convinced myself that the paint would help, a new coat and fresh beginnings and all that. Maybe a few flowers in the garden, a new coat of shine on the door, some hanging plants on the porch, and the house would look cheerful and homely. Then I walked in…that house is not for us, Stevie. It will never become home again. Everywhere I looked, every corner I turned, every piece of furniture my eyes landed on, it's all nothing but a kaleidoscope of bad memories, sleepless nights, of so much pain. The staircase where I lost my first child, the couch where I lay unmoving for hours, the door you were forced to walk out of, the cigarette burns in the carpet, the bit of blood drying at the corner of the side table, the dining table where aggression was served and never a family meal, the back porch where he liked to think the neighbors wouldn't see him beating me, the bedroom where-" she shuddered at whatever memories it brought up and turned to Steve again with tears in her eyes- "there have been good memories in that house. You were born there, Stevie, we brought you home through that same door, you learned to walk on that burned carpet, you had your first solid meal at that dining table. Joseph and I bought that house together to start our own little family, to have our pups and raise them together, but we hardly ever did that in that house. There are good memories in that house, Stevie, but there are too many bad memories. I don't know if you want to go back there, why you want to go back there, but if you do, I won't stop you, but I can't, baby. I cannot bear to be near that house again. It's a quagmire for me and very little of anything else."

 

They sit quietly in the aftermath of the confession, only Sarah's heavy breathing to be heard in the room. Steve thinks back upon what she said, rewinding and listening to each word, again and again, re-watching every expression of pain that flittered through her face, revisiting every time she had to stop during those words.

 

His heart breaks. How could he ever think…and to think he knew what she wanted! What was he thinking?

 

Some paint would never get rid of Joseph. He was engraved in their hearts, his cruelty ingrained into their hearts and souls. How could he believe that was where his mom's happiness lay? What was he thinking?

 

Had he been that selfish? 

 

He shakes his head to clear it and turns back to his mother. Now's not the time to think about all that, now's the time to comfort his mother. He doesn't know what to say, how to comfort her, so he goes with the truth: the truth he ought to have told her the day she suggested they move back ho-to that house. 

 

"It's okay, ma, we'll not go back there. We'll go wherever you want to go, whenever. I don't wanna go back to that house either, never have. I'm okay with whatever you are. We're in this together, ma, you and I, and we'll make it through," he assures her and lays his head on her shoulder. Sarah presses a small kiss to his hair and he can feel the smile in her words as she speaks.

 

"You're just gonna follow me, sweetheart? Whatever I say, wherever I say? Are you not gonna question me, tell me where you wanna go?"

 

"I'm happy wherever you are, ma, I promise." It's not true, considering what he's leaving behind here, but it's still not a lie. He'll always be happy to follow his ma, wherever she goes, and he's only too happy to remind her of that.

 

Sarah is not Bucky. But that doesn't mean he's not happy with her, doesn't mean he will not go wherever she goes. 

 

"Where do you wanna go, baby? What's home to you?" Sarah lifts his head off her shoulder and looks him in the eye. He fidgets at the intensity of the gaze, at the honesty she's expecting of him, and looks away immediately.

 

His eyes catch a drawing of Bucky he did a while back, the edges frayed and a little torn from having been caught in the zipper of his bag, and the sight makes him close his eyes.

 

Bucky may be home, but that's not what he needs to tell Sarah. That's not what she wants to hear from her son; and Steve will always be Sarah's son before he is anybody else: even himself.

 

"It doesn't matter, ma, my home doesn't matter. I want you to be happy, for you to be home. We'll sell that godforsaken property and we'll buy a home for you, wherever you want. That will be home for me too, just knowing you are happy. That's where I wanna go, that's home."

 

"What did I do to deserve you, Stevie? When did you grow up so much?" unshed tears glisten in her eyes and Steve finds his own eyes wet. He shakes his head and softly wipes her eyes with a small smile.

 

"Ma…" the word leaves his mouth without his permission but Sarah silences him with a shake of her head. She's openly crying now and Steve doesn't know how to stop them or even why they're falling.

 

"You deserve better, sweetheart, you deserve better than having to follow your mom around. I've been incredibly selfish, Stevie, I never stood up for you when you needed me and now, I'm forcing you to forgo your free will and bend to my whims. You're an adult, Stevie, time to make your own decisions and choices. I'm not going to be upset with you if you tell me what you want, baby. Your ma can handle it," she tells him with conviction and Steve knows from the tone, from her scent, that Sarah knows something, that she knows the secrets Steve's been hiding.

 

And that scares him, makes him panic. He pulls away from her a little, puts some distance between them, and averts his eyes. His answer is not what his mother wants to hear, he knows what she wants to hear, and he's adamant to give her that.

 

Sarah may think she knows Steve, but she doesn't know how much Steve's willing to give up for her, how much he's willing to kill his own happiness if it means her happiness.

 

His ma will always be Steve's happiness, whether Steve's happiness believes that or not.  

 

"I told you what I want, ma, I want you to be happy and I want to be part of that happiness."

 

"Even at the cost of your own happiness?"

 

"My happiness-" he begins, but she cuts him off. She takes Steve's face in her hands and forces him to look her in the eyes.

 

In her pale blue eyes Steve can see the conviction, can see truth and understanding.

 

"Is here with Bucky," she finishes softly and Steve wrenches his face from her hands. He jumps off the bed and turns towards her with fire blazing in his eyes.

 

She can't know, she shouldn't know. He's tried so hard to hide it, to not let anyone know. It can't be…no…

 

If Sarah knows, then Bucky probably knows too…

 

Steve's a transparent idiot and now his transparency and stupid feelings are gonna cost his mother her happiness. He won't let that happen. Sarah deserves happiness, she shouldn't worry about Steve and his unrequited feelings.

 

The guilt gnaws at Steve even before he opens his mouth.

 

"Ma, what are you talking about?"

 

"You hid things from your ma, Stevie, you hid from her the very thing that makes you happy; the person. You will be content with me, but you'll never be happy, you'll never be home. You already made your choice, sweetheart. Bucky is your happiness; this is your home. But then you decided to ignore your choice and stick with mine, and I'm not gonna let you do that. You've sacrificed enough, no more. I'm not worth all this sacrifice, Steve, I don't deserve so much love. You deserve some happiness, Stevie, always have. Time to be selfish, time to think about yourself. Your ma can handle herself." She stands up too and places a kind hand on Steve's shoulder.

 

Steve looks at her, at her calm face, her strong eyes, and her serene expression and shakes his head.

 

His happiness may be here, but his ma is not, and that will never be enough.

 

"Ma, I-"

 

"If it's a lie, I'll be very upset in you, Steve, I didn't raise you to be a liar," she interrupts fast as a whip and Steve can help the smile that breaks across his face. Leave it to Sarah Rogers to emotionally blackmail Steve into admitting his playground crush.

 

But the smile fades sooner than later and Steve's left facing his mother with strong eyes and some words that burn his tongue just to speak. 

 

"I'm not lying, ma. Bucky may be home, but this place will never give me happiness. Bucky has Pietro, they have a happy, healthy relationship that has no place in it for me. I can't uproot Bucky's happiness in hopes of finding mine, you raised me better than that. I've got no place here, I'm not Bucky's choice," he tells her as solemnly as he can without breaking down.

 

It's the truth and he knows it. He's not Bucky's choice, and irrespective of whether he stays or leaves, he'll never be Bucky's choice. The alpha gave Steve a place to stay, not a chance at winning his heart, and Steve needs to remember that. He may be Bucky's home, but he'll never make Bucky's heart his home.

 

Bucky is not Steve's, and that realization will probably hurt a lot less from some distance.

 

"Do you want to be?" Sarah asks quietly, her eyes betraying the fact that she knows the answer to her question. But Steve still gives her one, because he's nothing if not a masochistic idiot who likes to cause and then relive his own pain.

 

"Who wouldn't want to be? Tall, handsome, kind alpha who knows how to treat people right and not devour omegas in heat? Who doesn't want that?"

 

He knows what Sarah is thinking before she even says it, he can see it in her wide eyes, the open 'O' of her mouth. He knows because he heard himself too. He heard the yearning in his voice, the adoration, the respect, the devotion, the lo-

 

He heard himself give away his true desires to his mother…

 

"Oh, Stevie, my baby, you're-" he stops her before she can continue, before she can say those words out in the open. He hasn't said it to himself yet and he doesn't want to hear it first from his mother.

 

In fact, he never wants to hear those words. He never wants to face his own truth. Not now, not ever.

 

"Please don't say it, ma, please don't. Let me just pretend and walk away now, before it's too late and I can't," he begs and he sees the look in Sarah's eyes soften further. He can see her lips twist sympathetically and he looks away before he doesn't something stupid like fall into his mother's embrace, and ask her to make all the pain go away.

 

The pain of having to leave Bucky, the pain of having to watch Bucky be in love with somebody else, the pain of having to be there whenever someone else gets to kiss Bucky, the pain when somebody else gets to fall into his arms at the end of a long day, the pain of knowing somebody else gets to sleep next to Bucky.

 

The pain of knowing Bucky is not his was never his, and will probably never be his. 

 

"You're running away, Steve. You're running from rejection, from any and all feelings you have for Bucky. Falling in love is not the worst thing to ever happen, baby. You don't run away from it, because you can never run fast enough or far enough to escape it. You'll never stop running, Stevie. You need to face your feelings, sweetheart, " she emphasized with conviction, with a fire in her eyes Steve had not seen since she delivered a punch to Joseph's stupid face.

 

He wants to draw strength from that fire, to take her word to heart and run with it, but he knows it's not possible, not feasible in the long run.

 

"I have no place here, ma. Bucky has Pietro, there's no point in sticking around here just to see that. Bucky's gonna divorce me and after that, there will be no place for me in this house, much less in his heart. I don't belong here, ma, no matter what you say."

 

Steve can't run forever but he'll try. He will run as far away and as long as he can, and when he does stop, he'll make sure he's far away from Bucky and all his stupid feelings.

 

 

"Stevie, my baby… you heard Bucky yesterday, there will always be a home for you here. But if you'd rather walk away from here, walk away from their relationship, that is okay with me too. But don't lose hope yet, you may be surprised by the turn of things."

 

The fact that his mother witnessed the whole thing yesterday shocks Steve. He didn't want her there; he didn't want anybody else there. He wanted it to be their moment: his and Bucky's, a moment brought about by everything and everyone around them, and yet untainted by everyone and everything around them. It was their moment, their confessions, their truth.

 

Sarah being a witness to that moment taints the sanctity of it in Steve's mind, destroys the illusion of the bubble that Steve had placed them in yesterday. The safety net Steve had believed that moment to be.

 

In some sense, it had been too. Steve had been vulnerable and had fallen, and Bucky had been there to hold him and save him: his very own safety net.

 

But Sarah being there…that makes it feel like a circus. Steve, the artist walking the tightrope, had fallen and Bucky, being the safety net, had caught him because he was obligated to. Sarah, the audience, had watched the show and known that Steve had fallen, had needed the safety net there: that without the safety net, there would be no Steve.

 

And now Sarah does know that without Bucky there is no Steve.

 

It's after a few minutes of strong silence, that Sarah's last sentence clicks in his head.

 

"What do you mean?" he questions as he fixes his mother with an incredulous glare which is returned with twinkling eyes and a soft tone.

 

"You'll see. I would love for you to come away with me, Stevie, but I want you to really think about this. There are always two sides to a coin. You have only seen one."

 

"I…I don't know what you're talking about, ma." And he did not. He did not understand Sarah's cryptic words, the twinkle in her eyes, the fact that suddenly her rose-water scent seemed much happier.

 

Steve had almost confessed to being in l- to liking Bucky and his mother had replied with a smile and some ridiculous brain teasers.

 

And what it did was set a spark of hope in Steve's chest. A sparkling ember of red, hot hope. Sizzling, and hurting, right in the middle of Steve's chest.

 

And everybody knows that hope is a bad thing.

 

"I want you to make your own choices now, Stevie. Joseph and I have made enough decisions for you. It's all your choice now. I will stand by whatever you decide."

 

"I'll think about it, ma, I'll need some time."

 

"Don't base your decision based on their relationship, Stevie. Think about your relation with Bucky. Do you wanna walk away from here, leaving both of you lonely and alone? Do you want to walk away from the comfort that Bucky's presence brings? Every relationship is different, Stevie, Pietro is not you and never will be. Relationships change and evolve all the time, Steve, so will yours. Think a little selfishly, you've earned it now."

 

And that sets the ember off brighter. It glows and glows behind Steve sternum and it hurts and hurts Steve more than ever.

 

He doesn't manage a reply to his mother, just bows his head, rubs his chest and throws open his suitcase with a brief "okay".

 

Things are not okay. Steve's feelings are out in front of his mother, he has an important decision to make, a new house to find for his mother, and above all, there's hope burning bright in his heart.

 

It's going to be tough going for Steve, but when has it not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Interesting fact about this story: When the idea first came to me, it was supposed to be a comedy. Like a proper comedy of errors with Bucky and Steve trying to impress their new husbands and failing and the other person falling in love with the human personification of a mess. Look where we are now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 25: A New Beginning: Again

Notes:

Please do not get excited, it is just a small filler.

Steve doesn’t leave; Sarah does. She finds a small apartment near the hospital she works: a small one-bedroom affair with a small kitchen and just enough space for a couch and a T.V. Steve feels bad about his mother moving into what’s essentially a shoebox compared to Bucky's place but it is no match for the tears that appear in Bucky's eyes as they load Sarah’s boxes in his car. He pleads, begs, and even emotionally blackmails Sarah into staying, but the omega just shakes her head, kisses his cheek, and gives him a long hug in return. He doesn’t say anything much after that, but Steve does see him get teary eyed again as he sees Sarah’s little apartment.

 

Sarah gives them both another hug as they start to leave, late into the evening after a whole day spent arranging her meagre belongings in the small apartment, and they both cling to the hug for a lot longer than necessary. It is as much an emotional hug as it is a way for her to have a private talk with either of them.

 

Steve tries to give Bucky and Sarah their privacy as they hug, but he still can’t help but overhear as Sarah tells the alpha to look after her son. He can’t hear what Bucky says in return but it still doesn’t help the blush that flares across his cheeks at his mom’s words.

 

He just prays that it will calm down before he has to explain the reason to Bucky.

 

He gets a hug too and this time his ma whispers words of hope and patience in his ear. He tries not to cry as he lets her go, but his ma still knows. she pulls him closer one more time and places a small kiss to his cheek.

The ride back to their Bucky's place is quiet and Steve almost feels bad again about leaving his ma alone. But the reminder of the relief in Bucky's eyes as Steve told him he wasn’t leaving, the smell of the chocolate scent around them over-sweetened with relief, and the bone-crushing hug that Bucky had pulled him into, they all make the ache in Steve's chest lessen.

 

And when Bucky turns to him in the doorway that night and tells him they’re home, the ache in Steve’s chest disappears and paves way for the blazing fire of hope…

Chapter 26: Happy Birthday Steve... and America!

Notes:

I unwittingly made some promises involving fluff without realizing I do not know how to do that. So, here is my attempt at sweet things.

NOTE: TIME JUMP!!!!!!!!

4^TH OF JULY 2020

 

It’s the sound of someone cursing that draws Steve down the stairs and into the kitchen. He wasn’t sleeping, but he was just unconscious enough for his sense of direction to be hazy and his eyes to not adjust to the darkness only partially dispersed by the dim lighting of the kitchen. He knocks his hand on the doorway to the kitchen and winces at the pain as he makes his way in.

 

The sight he walks into makes his breath catch in his throat and all thought of his throbbing hand leaves his mind. He stands stock-still at the entryway till his brain catches up with his mouth, which fell open the moment he walked in. He takes a step in, eyes locked on smiling lips, and barely gets voice out.

 

“What’s-”

 

“Happy birthday, Stevie.” Bucky gives him a small smile as he crosses the table and comes to stand right in front of Steve, lips upturned in one of the softest smiles Steve's seen the alpha sport, and scent the sweetest scent of chocolate.

 

Steve can barely bring himself to look up from Bucky's lips, but when he does it knocks his breath away. The dim light of the kitchen, that he later realises is just the candles burning on a cake, makes Bucky look almost angelic. The iridescent light curtains Bucky's face in lights and shadows that make him look young and infinitely more beautiful. His cheeks look sharper and his eyes all the brighter.

 

Steve doesn’t believe people who say that a good beginning makes a good end, but he knows that if his day is starting with Bucky's smiling face, its only gonna end in the most beautiful fireworks.

 

“Buck…this is…wow!” he breathes eloquently and Bucky's huffs a laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He sidesteps and gestures to the cake on the table; a medium sized number with a galaxy glazing on top and complete with two candles which proclaim that Steve's 20 in flickering flames.

 

“Baked it myself. Galaxy cakes are surprisingly easy to make. Huh! Who knew?” the brunette exclaims eagerly and Steve can’t help the fond laughter that escapes him at the alpha’s enthusiasm.

 

The kitchen is drenched in happy aromas: ecstatic chocolate and adoring vanilla. And neither of them belongs to the cake that sits on the countertop all but forgotten as the two men stare at each other.

 

The more Steve looks at Bucky's beaming smile and smiling eyes, the more he remembers the old days. Tears in his mom’s eyes, his father’s screaming face, being thrown out of his home on this very day: just two years back. He remembers standing on the street not knowing where to go; remembers crying himself to sleep on Sam’s couch, birthday forgotten and subsequently neglected for the consequent years.

 

His birthday hasn’t been about celebrating him in a very long time. It’s only been about remembering the day he was thrown out of his childhood home and disowned for being who he is, for something he had no say over, for something totally out of his control, for something he couldn’t help being.

 

Bucky's amazing, Steve knows he’ll never do something like to Steve. But the fact that he is ready to do so much for Steve? That surprises the younger omega; only used to ridicule and contempt.

 

It’s not Steve fault if sometimes he just cannot believe that he's liked, adored, maybe even loved…

 

“You did all this for me?” He hates the way his voice wavers, hardly balancing on his own will and determination. Bucky ducks his head shyly, rubs the back of his neck, as he shuffles in his place and shrugs half-heartedly.

 

“I mean…I’ll eat it too,” he eventually answers, but Steve shakes his head and narrows his eyes at the alpha.

 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

 

“Of course, I did all this for you, Stevie. You're my best friend. You deserve this,” the alpha clarifies as he moves closer to Steve, his body language open and welcoming. Steve takes one look at his stupid, handsome face and just jumps into his arms. He hugs the alpha as tightly as he can and Bucky returns the gesture wholeheartedly.

 

Steve's strong, infinitely so when it comes to his emotional and mental strength, but hit with the full force of Bucky's kindness he all but loses all his strength. He turns his head slightly from where it rests against Bucky’s sternum and mumbles softly as the brunet holds him tightly, but still incredibly gently.

 

“Buck…thank you so much,” he mumbles softly but Bucky says nothing in reply. He smiles though because Steve can feel him hide the smile in Steve’s hair. The blonde smiles at the unexpected gesture but freezes when he feels Bucky place the softest of kisses on top of his head.

 

He holds his breath for a second, then two, and before he knows it, he's tearing up. This doesn’t happen to him. This is not how Steve Rogers celebrates his birthday; hasn’t been the way for far more years than just the last two. From back when he stopped growing, he's been the black sheep of the community. Nobody wanted to celebrate his birthday with him except his mother; kids wouldn’t come to birthday parties and other ladies on the block were only interested in telling his mother which new fruit to eat to give birth to a healthy baby boy.

 

Birthdays mean humiliation, hate, loneliness. Tonight has been adoration, cake, Bucky…

 

And nobody could fault Steve for crying about that. He doesn’t realise when he goes from teary to crying but he only does so when Bucky pulls back a little from him and ducks down to look into his eyes. He tries to get Steve to look him the eye but the blonde refuses to meet his eye.

 

“Stevie, you okay, buddy?” the alpha asks gently and Steve squares his shoulders immediately. He takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. He sniffs loudly and lifts his head to give Bucky a smile that feels utterly plastic on his face.

 

“Yeah. Of course, I am.”

 

Bucky removes his flesh hand from Steve's waist and wipes away the tear tracks under his left eye. He holds Steve's gaze as he does so and Steve's breath hitches at the action, at the intimacy of their position.

 

“You're crying, sweetheart. That doesn’t seem okay,” the brunet murmurs and Steve can smell the chocolate in the air lose its sweetness to concern. He swears at himself for snatching Bucky's happiness away and quickly shakes his head

 

“No, I'm fine. Let’s cut the cake okay.”

 

Bucky drops both his hands from Steve's body and in that second Steve's heart plummets dangerously. He's just starting to worry about having upset Bucky when the alpha takes both his hands in his own, stares gravely into his eyes, and takes a deep breath of his own.

 

“I thought we said no more lies, Stevie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

It’s not his alpha voice, but Steve doesn’t think Bucky would ever need to use it with him. Even with Bucky's normal voice, Steve's ready to comply almost immediately.

 

He knows it’s not the omega in him, but the little boy who’s just found… home…

 

“I don’t remember the last time someone did this for me, Buck. The last two years…you know how that was. And even before that, celebrating me was not something anybody wanted to do. Mom would get me a small cupcake or something, but dad absolutely forbade any cakes after he realised I wasn’t going to be his alpha-son. I forgot this was something people did for their loved ones.” He laughs depreciatingly at himself, at the pathetic life he's led, before continuing. “Did you always have cake on your birthday?”

 

“When my parents were alive, cakes were a must on every birthday. My sister and I would always get the custom-made ones and our parents would always get us whatever caught our fancy. There was one birthday when she got one with a scene from some music video on it. My parents had to roam the entire city searching for a bakery that would make it, but they still did it. But after they passed away, the orphanage was not that kind. No birthdays; no cakes.”

 

Bucky says it simply, like he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb ever on Steve. The omega stands still for a second, even forgetting to breathe in the light of this revelation. He knew something had happened with Bucky's parents, but he had just thought they'd moved away or something. Bucky had told him that this house had been his parents’ but Steve's takeaway from that had been completely different; too naïve, too simple.

 

He stands so still; he worries Bucky and the alpha has to give him a little jerk to put him back in motion. Steve immediately takes a step towards the brunet and throws his arms around him. He buries his nose in Bucky's scent gland and tries to secrete as comforting a scent as he can. Bucky relaxes slightly in his arms and that’s when Steve realises that the alpha had gone still too. He burrows himself so close to the alpha, he speaks with his lips brushing the brunet’s collarbones.

 

“Buck, I'm so sorry. I never…I'm so sorry-”

 

“Calm down, sweetheart, you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. It’s okay, Stevie, it was a long time ago, in the past. Your birthday and this cake that I painstakingly made are now. And I wanna live in the now. So, blow out that candle, make a wish, and let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks or if I owe you an apology dinner as well.”

 

Steve takes a step back at that, at the insistence in Bucky's voice. He can guess Bucky’s reluctant to talk about it, can understand all too well so he doesn’t push. He gives Bucky as big a smile as he can muster and moves towards the table to where the candles have already been blown out by the air and the cake has been miraculously saved from a waxy accident.

 

He picks up the knife from the tabletop and looks at Bucky as he holds the knife to the cake.

 

“I don’t know how to thank you for this, Buck. Thank you so much!” he whispers softly as he closes his eyes to make his birthday wish. When he opens them again, Bucky's looking right back at him, something novel in his eyes and a kind smile on his lips.

 

“You're my family, Stevie, and there's nothing I wouldn’t do for my family,” he says with conviction and Steve's heart thunders in his chest. He almost drops the knife as forbidden words dance at the tip of his tongue. He takes a deep breath, then another, and finally finds the energy to say something to Bucky.

 

“I-” and he stops himself, just in time, and forces his scent to calm down. “I am so grateful to you. Thank you.”

 

Bucky steps closer to him again, but this time he goes for the cake. He takes the knife from Steve's hand and cuts a piece out. He uses the knife to pull the piece out and holds it up for Steve to take a bite from. Steve looks between the piece in Bucky's hand and Bucky's face and finally decides to move forward and take a bite.

 

As he takes a small bite, Bucky speaks again: his voice molasses sweet and accent thick. 

 

 “You're welcome, Stevie. Many, many happy returns of the day and I hope I get to spend all of them with you.”

 

“Me too, Buck, me too.” and just like that, it becomes the best birthday of Steve's life…

 

***

If Steve thought Bucky had gone overboard with his delicious galaxy cake that he painstakingly baked, he was certainly not prepared for the party that the alpha organised in the evening. It wasn’t a surprise since Bucky had already asked Steve in the morning if he was okay with their friends and family joining the birthday celebration, but that made it is no less fun than any birthday party. Since Steve's birthday falls on the anniversary of America’s birthday, everybody is dressed in the common theme of red, blue, and white, and ready for some barbeque that Bucky is only too happy to dole out.

 

Though it’s a party, there is no crowd in their home. It’s just them: the residents of the home, Pietro, Sam, Sarah, Clint, Natasha and some people Steve knows from the VA. The omega’s told that Tony couldn’t make it since he's out of the country, but he can’t find it in him to be too unhappy about that. He's happy that everybody he cares about is in attendance and is in no mood to worry about those who can’t.

 

The evening passes in a flurry of activities. Though Steve's not a child, everybody insists that he open his presents immediately and give them some feedback. Sam buys him a spandex outfit in the hues of the American flag and then makes some stupid joke about Steve being Captain America because he's always talking about equality, justice, and the right way of things. Though the faces Steve pulled at him are not as mean as the suit, he does enjoy the way Sam’s mouth falls open when he puts it on after a while and Bucky jokingly asks if he's gonna keep it.

 

Even though his cheeks burn at the question, Steve doesn’t mind telling Bucky that the suit’s starting to grow on him.

 

Clint and Natasha give him a gift card for a month of martial arts classes that he eagerly accepts; Sarah gives him some old classic books that’s been wanting for a while, while Pietro gives him a collector’s edition set of the Lord of the Rings and playfully calls him a nerd. He accepts the gifts with moisture in his eyes, but thankfully the night passes without any waterworks.

 

He doesn’t expect a gift from Bucky, after all the money he's spent on food and drinks tonight, but he's still a little disappointed that Bucky doesn’t get him anything.

 

They cut the cake afterwards; the store-bought cake not nearly as good as Bucky's, but Steve does believe that the taste increased by a manifold as they all ate it together.

 

Lost in the flurry of laughter, chatter, and happy scents in the house, along with the mouth-watering aroma of barbeque, Steve doesn’t notice the scent of peppermint approach him. He's talking to Harry about their trip to Barbados (they have got a tan Steve would kill for) when Natasha taps him from behind, her eyes razor-focused on Steve and lips upturned in an unusually wide smile. 

 

“Hello, Stevie. Can I talk to you outside?” she gestures towards the front door with her hand and Steve unnecessarily follows the action with his eyes. He looks back at Harry for  permission to leave their conversation midway, but the alpha only nods their head and turns away to walk out the backdoor. As the door towards the backyard opens and closes, Steve can smell sizzling meat on the barbeque and hear Bucky's boisterous laughter.

 

He smiles unconsciously at the sound and only remembers Natasha standing at his side when she clears her throat loudly. 

 

“Sure, Natasha. What did you want to talk about?” he asks her as they walk towards the door but Natasha doesn’t say anything until after they close the door behind them.

 

“Nothing. I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday, Stevie.”

 

“Thank you. I'm glad you came today. I didn’t know there was a party tonight. Gotta say I was a little unprepared,” he tells her amicably even though he can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable being alone with Natasha. He's not worried she’ll hurt him, he trusts her as Bucky's friend, but there's something about this interaction that’s not sitting well with him -that he cannot pinpoint- but which drives him insane nevertheless.

 

“Hmm…I know, Stevie, I know,” she replies with a sickeningly sweet smile that Steve's never seen on her face and he's suddenly overcome by the realisation of what’s been bothering him. He stops on the sidewalk in front of the house and turns to face Natasha, eyes defiant in their stance and hands following suit by crossing across his chest.

 

“My name’s Steve, not Stevie. Why do you keep calling me that?”

 

“James calls you that,” she replies coolly and changes her posture to mirror Steve's. Natasha is short, shorter than other alphas Steve's met, but she’s still taller than Steve by some margin. And irrespective of height, Natasha’s one of the most intimidating alphas Steve's seen, but none of that seems to stop him today.

 

All his amicability falls away in the face of her answer and animosity takes its place.

 

“You're not James.”

 

“No, I'm not. But I don’t understand why he can call you that and I can’t. What’s so special about James?” she takes an intimidating step towards the omega, but he refuses to take a step back. He lets the alpha approach him till they’re standing less than a foot apart and makes sure to look into her eyes as he replies.

 

“He's my best friend, not that I have to give you any reason why he's special!”

 

Suddenly the scent of the air around them changes. Natasha’s deceptively calm scent falls and something wild takes its place. The refreshing scent of mint falls away and only pepper remains in the air between them: hot, spicy pepper.

 

Steve still refuses to stand down, or step back.

 

“So? What do you know about him? You know nothing, Steve! Do you know about his PTSD, his childhood, his-” she starts screaming and Steve puts up a hand to stop her.

 

He doesn’t want to hear this, not from her. He wants to know, but not from Natasha, but from Bucky: if and when Bucky will tell him.

 

“Stop it! I may know nothing about a lot of it, but I don’t want to hear it from you,” he almost screams in her face but holds himself back at the last moment. His hands shake at his sides and his teeth grit, but his voice comes out more or less even-toned.

 

He almost wants to pat himself on the back.

 

He also wants to say fuck it and tear Natasha a new one.

 

“Why not? He may never tell you; might as well hear it from me,” she huffs in irritation and Steve sees red again. He can’t believe he's having this conversation with one of Bucky's closest friends, can’t believe he's hearing the things he's hearing. Bucky's trusts Natasha, he knows that. If Natasha told Bucky to jump off a cliff, Steve knows Bucky would do it in a heartbeat. He trusts Natasha almost too naively, too stupidly in Steve's opinion. And now, Steve knows it’s not worth it.

 

Natasha’s ready to blurt out Bucky's secrets to somebody she’s only known for a few months just to prove that she knows him best; just to prove that Steve's the new guy around here.

 

He wants to puke, wants to apologise to Bucky, wants to punch Natasha in the face.

 

“I will hear about it if and when Bucky tells me about it. I don’t want to hear it from you, Natasha. It’s not your problem to share.”

 

For the next few seconds, neither of them speaks. Steve's breathing hard, all the control and restraint of his instincts exhausting him, while Natasha just stands there quietly and stares at him. Her scent is neutral again and Steve doesn’t know what to make of it. They’re still standing close to the house that if Steve screams, they may be able to hear him, but he's not too sure given that most of them are in the backyard and not in the drawing-room.

 

But he still doesn’t look away from Natasha’s eyes, doesn’t let his scent waver from his defiant stand.

 

Suddenly Natasha’s scent gives way to cheer, and surprisingly enough that gets Steve's heart beating more wildly than the spiciness of pepper did.

 

“You're good for him. You passed the test, Steve,” she tells him softly but Steve's too high-strung at that point to make out her words and their meaning. He stares at her for a while longer while his brain comes online after the 180° turn it just witnessed.

 

He just stares at her and blinks owlishly. 

 

“What?”

 

“I…I was a little worried that you might be too good to be true; that James was probably being naïve and stupid. But I was wrong…I was wrong.” The alpha’s words go really quiet at the end of the sentence and Steve feels himself getting angry again. His fists clench at his sides and he takes a step forward menacingly, ready to rip Natasha a new one for her troubles.

 

He can’t believe she would do that to him. That she would put Steve through some sort of reverse psychology test to see if he's actually loyal to Bucky or no. He grits his teeth again as a snarl escapes him but Natasha merely raises her eyebrows at him.

 

“You were testing me?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Oh, you fucker! For a second I thought…” he begins angrily, but she cuts him off. Just raises her arm and Steve's words die out in his throat.

 

“That I was a bad friend. No, never to Bucky. We have a heavy history; I trust him with my life and vice versa. I'm not a bad person, Steve, but I am protective of Bucky. But, as you said, you’ll hear about it if and when Bucky decides to tell you about it. But I must warn you, hurt him and there will be hell to pay. I don’t joke where Bucky is concerned. I wish you a happy birthday, Steve, hope you have a great one.”

 

There's so much to unpack in what she said that Steve just stands there staring at her for a while. He knows she and Bucky have a history; he knows it’s some heavy shit from the way Bucky avoids talking about it, but he would’ve never thought that their camaraderie was this deep. He knows protectiveness between friends, has felt it for Sam and for Tony, but the fire in Natasha’s eyes is not mere friendly protectiveness, it’s deeper, harder, fiercer.

 

It’s not love in the romantic sense, but it’s love all the same.

 

Steve feels a strong urge to hug Natasha then, but he knows it’s not going to be welcome. He also knows that nothing he says now will be appropriate, so he sticks to the easiest part: he thanks her for wishing him.

 

“Thank you. And thank you for looking out for Bucky. It means a lot,” he adds anyway because he's an idiot. He's expecting Natasha to walk away now, but she doesn’t. Instead, she looks at Steve again, her eyes sizing him up again and again as if she could read him like a book.

 

As the seconds draw on Steve starts fidgeting, till Natasha speaks again.

 

“To whom? You?”

 

“To Bucky.”

 

“Sure.” She smiles knowingly at Steve and Steve's heart thunders in his chest. There's no way she knows, there's no way she meant it the way it sounded. Natasha might be able to break into their home whenever she wants, but there's no way she can read Steve's mind like that; there's no way she knows that Steve's the one grateful that she’s looking out for Bucky.

 

There's no way she knows Steve's…got feelings for Bucky, that he wants Bucky safe and happy as much as Natasha does.

 

She can’t know that…

 

But before he can ask, she turns and walks away. Steve stands frozen on the sidewalk watching her go till she stops at the door and turns around to look at him.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot: Welcome to the family, Steve. It’s an honour.”

 

**

It’s past midnight when Steve finally makes his way to bed. All their guests are gone, all the cleaning has been relegated to the next day, and Steve is just about ready to fall into bed and sleep till the cows come home. He’s just pulling back the covers when a knock sounds on the door.

 

Even before opening, Steve knows who it is.

 

The thought makes him smile giddily despite his tiredness.

 

“Hey! Did you enjoy the party?” Bucky asks the moment Steve opens the door and the omega can’t help but smile indulgently at the alpha’s hopefully expression. He pulls the door open wider and steps into the door frame to get a little closer to the brunet.

 

“I absolutely loved it. Thank you so much!” he squeals delightedly and Bucky returns the gesture eagerly.

 

“I'm glad you liked it. I just came by to give you your birthday gift.”

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to Steve. The omega hesitated for a second, his curiosity peaked by the gesture, but he quickly gets over his hesitation and shakes his head firmly.

 

“Bucky, you already did so much. Please, I can’t ask you to do anything more. Getting to spend this day with you guys was the best gift I could ask for.”

 

“It’s not a problem, Stevie. Please accept this, I worked kinda hard for this one.” The brunet pouts, and Steve is not strong enough to ignore that gesture. He begrudgingly accepts the phone from Bucky's hand and almost immediately drops it as his eyes land on the picture open on it.

 

It can’t be…holy shit…

 

“Are…are they mine?” he hates the way his voice wavers, years of self-doubt and self-hatred creeping by, but he's still glad it doesn’t totally give out. He pulls his eyes from the picture to meet Bucky's and even the alpha’s kind eyes don’t dispel the doubt lodged in Steve's head.

 

“Yeah. Sam and I pulled them from the CV you showed Stark industries. They are going to be hung in the VA, Stevie. And before you think Sam and I misused our powers and all, the veterans actually selected it. They said it was the most beautiful rendition they'd seen of their city and the land they fought so hard to protect.”

 

Steve's drawings…

 

Sam and Bucky pulled out Steve's drawings and had it framed and ready to be hung. The picture in Bucky's phone is of Sam and Bucky standing next to each other, picture frames in hand, and goofy smiles on their face; and all Steve wants to do is cry.

 

His pictures’ in the VA. Because the veterans selected it because they wanted it. The people who fought for this country thought it was the most beautiful rendition of their city and that sits heavily in Steve's chest.

 

Never in a hundred years had he thought he would have that.

 

“Bucky…” the word falls unbidden from Steve's mouth, but it’s the closest to thank you he can get at the moment. He doesn’t know what to say, how to say, but Bucky has no such issues, as the brunet continues speaking.

 

“Would you like to be there when they hang it up? You know those folks love you. You're practically their favourite amongst us.”

 

Steve nods before he knows he's doing it and throws himself at the alpha. Bucky catches him with a chuckle and Steve can’t stop the tirade of gratitude that he lets loose.

 

“I’d love to come. Thank you so much, Buck, thank you so, so much!”

 

“It wasn’t just me; Sam was there too. But it might’ve been my idea, backed by your mom. It was a team effort, Stevie.” Bucky pats Steve’s back as he lets him go and Steve reluctantly moves back. He beams idiotically at the alpha, his mouth unable to stop smiling, and the alpha graciously saves his dignity by doing the same.

 

“I…fuck! I don’t even know what to say!” Steve exclaims after a while and Bucky laughs at his enthusiasm.

 

They both grow quiet in the aftermath of their laughter and a heavy silence befalls them. It’s not awkward by any means but Steve starts running out of places to look at that are not Bucky's face. When he finally looks up at the brunet, he's watching Steve intently: eyes focused on Steve's and stormy in nature. Bucky takes a step towards Steve and raises his arm towards the blonde’s face.

 

For a second, Steve thinks Bucky's gonna touch his face, possibly even cup it, but the brunet drops his hand before it can touch Steve's face.  

 

Steve hopes his disappointment doesn’t show on his face.

 

“Don’t say anything, but keep that smile going forever. It suits you; makes you look beautiful.” He tells Steve softly as he retracts his hand and Steve's breath catches in his throat. He takes a deep breath and tries to extinguish the fire of hope that burns in his chest at the statement, but it’s easier said than done.

 

Steve's cheeks burn at the compliment, but it’s somewhere near his sternum that he feels the pain of the burn…

 

“I…You-” he wants to ask Bucky to stay: maybe to watch a movie, maybe listen to some music, maybe just to talk. He wants to invite Bucky to stay because he doesn’t want this day to end. He was tired a few minutes back, but the sight of Bucky Barnes standing at his doorstep with the best gift ever is enough to wake Steve up and keep him awake for a few more hours.

 

Steve waits for Bucky to say something, but the brunet never gets a chance.

 

“Bucky…” hearing Pietro's voice come from Bucky's bedroom immediately douses all the hope in Steve's chest. He unconsciously takes a step back from Bucky at that moment and averts his eyes to the ground.

 

Bucky is not his. Bucky may give him thoughtful birthday gifts and bake him a cake at midnight, but Bucky is still somebody else’s boyfriend. He is not Steve's partner; he's just Steve's best friend and Steve needs to get with the programme. He can’t keep wanting Bucky, can’t keep giving himself hope again and again only to get hurt every time he's reminded of Bucky's relationship with Pietro.

 

Bucky is not his and that reminder is enough to tire Steve out again.

 

“Oh, sorry, got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Stevie. Sweet dreams.” Bucky waves to him as he leaves but Steve can’t muster the energy to return the gesture. He feels very tired very soon and it takes all his energy to close the door after Bucky leaves. He leans his head against the door and closes his eyes shut.

 

He tries not to think about how close Bucky and Pietro might be lying right now. He tries not to think about the kisses Bucky might be planting on Pietro's body. He tries not to think about them exchanging sweet nothings. He tries not to think of them tangling their legs together as Pietro sleeps in the cocoon of Bucky's arms. He tries not to think of them exchanging ‘I love yous’.

 

He fails at all of that.

 

“Good night, Buck.” He tells the wooden door and the darkness that overcomes the room as he makes his way to bed.

 

Even with the heartbreak, it’s still one of the best birthdays he's ever had and isn’t that saying something?

Notes:

DO YOU THINK BUCKY BAKED A GALAXY CAKE BECAUSE IT REMINDS HIM OF STEVE'S EYES? 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Chapter 27: There's Pain in Your Heart and You're Covered in Scars

Summary:

Bucky's past is finally revealed.

Notes:

Can you guess where the title is from? (Hint: It's a song)

 

PS. If you guess it right, you and I are best friends now. Sorry, I do not make the rules.

24^th September 2020

 

Steve spares another glance at the clock and sighs in worry. He crossed from curiosity to worry a long time back but now it’s bordering on anxiety. It’s past 10 and Bucky's still in bed. To most, it would not be a cause of worry that their roommate was sleeping in but Bucky was different. He never slept in, not even on Sundays. He hadn’t woken up for their morning walk, he hadn’t woken up when Steve had started on breakfast and he hadn’t stirred when Steve had screamed after seeing a spider.

 

Bucky was sleeping in and Steve was losing his goddamn mind over it.

 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He walked up to Bucky’s room and knocked on the door. When no reply came from the other side, he knocked once more before pushing the door open. Bucky lay in one corner of the bed, his back to Steve, but the rise and fall of his chest made it clear that he was awake.

 

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked as he stepped into the doorway, but Bucky didn’t turn around at the question. He merely shrugged and tugged the blanket higher around his shoulders.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Buck, it’s after 10 and you’re still in bed. Is everything really okay?” Steve pushed as he approached the bed, but the alpha merely shrugged again, his voice a little annoyed and scent twitchy.

 

“Yeah, I told you. Everything’s peachy; now leave me alone.”

 

“Buck, it’s obviously not fine. You-” Steve began but this time Bucky did not give him time to complete. He threw the covers of his body and turned towards Steve with blazing eyes, his scent screaming in annoyance.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Steve! Take a hint and leave me alone!” he thundered and Steve merely nodded before turning around and leaving the room. He closed the door behind him with a loud bang and leaned back on it as he caught his breath.

 

He had never seen Bucky that angry, had never seen him breathe so heavily with self-restraint. Steve couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t at least a little scared, considering Bucky's anger had brought back memories of his father after all, but he knew Bucky would never hurt him. Steve was safe, but he wasn’t feeling happy.

 

**

Steve hears Bucky's door opening and closing after an hour or so, and then he hears the front door opening and closing. He runs out of his room to see if the alpha left any note for him, but there's nothing on the fridge. He shakes his head in frustration and stares at the front door for answers.

 

Unsurprisingly, he gets none.

 

**

Steve waits up till midnight for Bucky to return but the brunet doesn’t come home. Finally, after a long sigh and another fruitless glance at the door, Steve gets up from the couch and makes his way upstairs to bed. He's just switching off the lights in his bedroom when the sound of the front door opening and closing reaches him. He immediately shuts off the lights of his room and makes his way back to the stairs.

 

“Bucky, is that you?” he calls out from the top of the stairs and hears the brunet stutter to a stop downstairs.

 

“Um, yeah, it’s me.”

 

And just like that all the tension Steve's been holding on to the entire day melts away. He didn’t know how worried he was until the brunet’s voice reaches him, and the feeling of relief almost has him sliding onto the floor.

 

“Oh, okay. Just thought I’d check. Good night.” the omega replies and turns on his heels.

 

He wants to stay, wants to ask Bucky a million questions but at the moment he's just tired and angry. He's irritated, annoyed, and more than a little mad at the brunet and he's not sure that having a conversation with Bucky at the moment is the best thing for their friendship.

 

“Steve, please wait. I owe you an apology.” Bucky's head pops around the stairs and Steve feels the familiar tickling of his fight instincts at the base of his spine. He can feel his scent rearing for a fight and he doesn’t try very hard to simmer it down.

 

“For snapping at me in the morning or for leaving without letting me know?”

 

“For both,” the alpha replies shamefacedly and a part of Steve breaks at the look of utter grief on the brunet’s face. He wants to say a lot of things to Bucky that will hopefully lift his mood, but the fear and anxiety that had gripped him from the moment Bucky left in the morning don’t let him comfort the brunet.  

 

“Go ahead, I'm listening,” he replies as he taps his foot on the stairs and Bucky looks utterly dejected at the action.

 

“I'm so sorry, Stevie. I'm sorry for shouting at you in the morning, and I'm sorry for leaving the house without telling you where I'm going or for how long. I'm sorry you had to go through that, my intention was neither to scare nor hurt you.”

 

The air stinks with the scent of the alpha’s vulnerability, but Steve doesn’t let it get to him. He walks down to Bucky and looks up at him with kind eyes. 

 

“I wanna say it’s okay, Buck, I really do, but I don’t know why you would wake up one day and just go off on me. What happened today, Buck? Where were you? What made you stay out of our home for a whole day?”

 

“Just a bad day, nothing more. I’ll let you go to bed now, Stevie, it’s been a long day I'm sure.” The brunet turns to leave, but Steve grabs hold of his wrist before he can walk away. They both stare incredulously at Steve's tiny hand holding onto the alpha’s metal arm, and it’s Steve who finally breaks the silence; surprising himself with how strong and firm his voice comes out.

 

“Sit down, Barnes, and do not move until I tell you to. We have an agreement, to be honest with each other and I do not feel like you're being honest with me. So, sit down, and tell me what happened today.”

 

He lets go of the alpha’s hand and gesture to the couch in their living room. Bucky looks at him for a moment too long, before he shakes his head and opens his mouth to talk.

 

“I-”

 

“No. It concerns me too because I got snapped at in the morning for this. You scream at me; you make it my problem too. So, let’s get to talking.”

 

He starts walking up to the couch before Bucky can argue and sits himself down with a plop. He looks back at the brunet with a raised eyebrow and finally Bucky walks up to the couch and sits down next to Steve. He continues watching Steve's face for a few seconds before a soft, fond smile breaks across his face.

 

“You’re something else, Rogers: something made of fire, and strength, and everything great,” he breathes out eventually and it brings a smile to Steve's face without his permission. He tries to school his expression back into a scowl, but the damages already been done: Bucky's amused smile is proof.

 

“Flattery will get you to a lot of places but sadly not out of this situation.”

 

Bucky nods with a smile and turns so he faces the T.V. instead of Steve. Steve continues watching him, the side of his face illuminated by the lights on the stairs and almost forgets about how angry he was at Bucky the whole day. He watches the soft stubble on Bucky's jaw, and his deep-set cheekbones, as the silence stretches on around them. The two sit together in silence for a long while, before Bucky's rough voice breaks it. 

 

“It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death,” he admits quietly and any remaining fight drains out of Steve's body. He stares blankly at the side of Bucky's face before his brains kick starts again, and he darts forward to take Bucky's hand in his own.

 

“Bucky…” he hates the way his voice breaks, hates the fact that he pushed Bucky into admitting it, hates the way his hands shake. He grips Bucky's hand as tightly as he can and hates himself for the way his eyes start watering when Bucky looks back at him with tears running down his cheeks.

 

“Today marks eleven years without them and my sister. Eleven years of being alone, and wondering why only I was left behind.”

 

A few more tears slip down his eyes and onto his cheeks and Steve hastily wipes them away. He moves closer to brunet, his arms out to comfort and hold the breaking alpha, and takes both of Bucky's hands in his.

 

“What happened?” he asks, his voice wobbling dangerously on the verge of tears themselves, and Bucky seems to sense that as he swipes a hand under Steve's eyes.

 

Even in his grief, he takes care of Steve first and if that isn’t enough to make Steve tearier.

 

“I was fourteen and going through a pretty rebellious phase. Refusing to join my parents in public, wanting to solely hang out with my friends, leering at girls who smiled at me, and absolutely refusing to be seen doing anything uncool. My sister, Rebecca, had her own phase going: ballet, school plays, and glittery makeup. She was three years younger to me and that to me meant that we couldn’t ever be seen together in school, lest she damages my reputation.”

 

“It was our annual day, and Rebecca was performing in the musical. She was really excited about it too; spent hours doing her makeup and modelling her tutu for me. She really wanted me to go see her perform, but I thought that would hamper my reputation. So, I refused to go. My mom asked me to go with them again and again, my dad gave me his unimpressed glare, but nothing could make me get up and leave the house with them. I should’ve…oh god! I should have.”

 

The brunet starts openly sobbing and Steve pulls him into his arms. The big, mighty alpha crumbles in Steve's arms, lays his head down on the omega’s chest and wheezes out tears and sobs. Steve rubs his back soothingly but doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. He gives Bucky the time and support to continue on with his story as he tries and holds back his own tears.

 

“They never came back. After a few hours, a few policemen came along with my aunt to tell me that my parents would not be coming back. I didn’t believe them, couldn’t, but my aunt’s grim face was enough to convince me. I was an orphan, solely because I was an asshole. Had I been with them, had I gone with them, we all would’ve been together. Some drunk driver driving on a wet road cost me my childhood and that was that,” the alpha finishes amidst his tears, but doesn’t raise his head from Steve's chest. The omega wonders for one fleeting second how he contorted himself in such a manner, but in the face of a broken alpha, the thought doesn’t hold much importance.  

 

“Bucky, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry that happened to you. No child deserves it, Buck, nobody deserves to go through what you did. My sympathies won’t help you and I know that, but please do not say you wish you had been with them. please do not wish you didn’t have to continue living. Please. The skies clear after every storm, Buck, and I'm sure your pain passed too.” He rubs soothing circles on Bucky's back and runs his fingers gently through Bucky's hair. Bucky lifts his head from Steve's shoulder for a second and gives him a dry smile that conveys far too much grief for Steve's liking. He lifts his hand again and runs it through Bucky's soft hair again. The alpha’s eyes fall closed at the gesture and Steve's heart squeezes at the show of trust.

 

“Yeah, you would think that, in fact, everybody did. Everybody thought things would change for the better because the worst was over me, but they were so wrong. Things only got worse from there,” Bucky admits softly after a while and Steve's hands still in his hair. He waits until Bucky opens his eyes to look at him, and cups the brunet’s face gently.

 

“What do you mean, Buck?”

 

“After that happened, my aunt became my legal guardian. She was young, barely in her mid-twenties, and she did not want to spend her youth taking care of her grieving nephew. That’s when Alexander Pierce came to see her. To my aunt, he was heaven-sent. He offered to take me off her hands and even offered her some money in return. She must’ve felt bad selling her nephew, so she didn’t take the money at least. But she did give me away to an absolute stranger, Alexander Pierce, who ran the shadiest orphanage in town: Hydra.”

 

As Bucky's voice fades a little at the end, Steve's mouth falls open in a gasp. Bucky was given away…Steve's father had done some really fucked up things. Had toyed and played with Sarah’s heart for years, had abused and hurt Steve multiple times, had disowned Steve at the age of 18; but to sell your newly orphaned nephew to a stranger? Even Joseph could not have been that cruel.

 

Steve can’t think of anyone who could’ve been. He feels a surge of protective anger towards Bucky's aunt and doesn’t realise that his scent’s giving it away until Bucky starts pulling away from his hand. He shakes his head as the brunet starts to pull away, but Bucky adamantly does it anyway.

 

It breaks Steve's heart to let him go, but he understands that Bucky needs the space to go on about his story.

 

“The years spent at Hydra were the worst of my life but the memories are a little bittersweet. You asked me how I know Natasha but I couldn’t answer you then. Now you know.” His lips pull up in a small, lopsided smile as he says her name, but Steve doesn’t return the sentiment.

 

Bucky's pain is too raw in his heart for him to even attempt a smile at the moment. 

 

“You met Natasha at an orphanage?” he asks uselessly, but Bucky still nods.

 

“Yeah. She was the toughest there; could swing her legs around your neck and choke you to death if you crossed her. Somehow, that badass Russian mobster decided that I was going to be the perfect sidekick and extended her arm to shake. Almost 11 years later, that handshake has become the strongest bond of my life. Funny how you meet the best people in the worst places.”

 

“When did you leave Hydra? Were you adopted?” the question is answered with a bitter scoff and Steve's heart plummets in his chest.

 

He doesn’t know if he wants to hear anymore and if he can bear to. But he knows that if Bucky wants to share, he’ll listen, for however long.

 

“You don’t get to leave Hydra, Steve, once you're there, you're there forever. Hydra wasn’t an ordinary orphanage because they weren’t interested in the orphans at all. All they wanted were some hamsters to test on and who better to be lab rats than a bunch of kids who had no family or loved ones?” Bucky puts his head in his hands, but Steve can still see the shaking of his shoulders, the years of pain in his stiff back and the foul stench of chocolate.

 

“Tests…on kids? No…” He can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up, can taste the sour vanilla in the air, the bile rising in the back of his throat. He shakes his head, tries to control himself, but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice any of it as he stares right ahead, his eyes devoid of any feeling.

 

Blank, empty, lifeless: a sign of trauma, Steve's brain supplies.

 

“Oh, yes. On my first day there they took my blood sample. I didn’t know what they wanted with that, but after many years I learned that Hydra had devised some tests that allowed them to pinpoint your secondary gender way before you turned 18. They used this test to separate the kids into omegas and alphas, and started the next step of their fuckery. They wanted puppets: alphas who would fight whoever they were asked to fight, and omegas who would serve without protest. Alphas were taught to fight, to survive without food and water, to not give in to their base instincts and learn to serve the person who gave orders. The fighting and the starvation were okay, but as kids who didn’t have a base instinct associated with their secondary gender, we didn’t know what to curb. If you fucked up, you would get punished…” he trailed off and for a second nobody spoke in the room. The only sounds were the heavy breathing from both men and the faraway ticking of the kitchen clock. Steve waited with bated breath for Bucky to continue but it was a while before the alpha did so.

 

This time his eyes lost the faraway look and he seemed to have come back to himself a little more. He angled his body slightly towards Steve but refused to meet his eyes as he continued.

 

“We never knew what the omegas were trained for because they were taken to another part of the building for their training, but sometimes we would hear the most horrifying screams from that part of the building, and any curiosity we had to know what happened there would be curbed immediately. Natasha and I often used to plan about how we would get out of there one day, how we would take out the guards at the entrance, how we would distract the guards at the dormitories, and how we would take everyone with us when we left. But we both knew it was all for nothing, that we would never leave.”

 

“It all changed one July morning, a few months after my 17^th birthday with the arrival of Pietro and Wanda: the twins as we had dubbed them. The-”

 

Pietro’s name throws Steve for a loop. All these months, he'd never known. He had always thought Pietro was some normal college going kid who just happened to have met Bucky somewhere neutral, wherever it was that kids met people like Bucky. He had never imagined that Bucky and Pietro had meant in an orphanage.

 

Doesn’t wanna imagine what that was like.

 

With another jolt he realises that Bucky's met all his friends under grim circumstances: Natasha and Pietro through the orphanage, Sam through counselling, and Steve through a fraudulent arranged marriage. He wonders how Bucky still manages to smile after all this, how he still manages to wake up in the morning and not break down every second.

 

“You met Pietro at the orphanage? Piet’s…oh my god, Buck. No, no, no!” and suddenly it strikes him again. Pietro's not an alpha nor an omega and Bucky only spoke about either. His hands come up to cover his mouth and he shakes his head violently.

 

Bucky looks up at him in worry, takes his hands in his own and guides him closer to himself. He stops talking as he gets Steve to match his breathing to his own, and Steve's suddenly overcome with shame.

 

Bucky's telling Steve about his past, his traumatic, unhappy past and Steve's the one seeking comfort. He's the one whose being calmed down by the alpha when it’s supposed to be the other way around. He shakes his head again, steels himself, and tells the alpha to go on, that he is okay. Bucky hesitates for a second, but when Steve squeezes his hands, Bucky continues.

 

“Pietro made quite an impression on everybody when his test results came in neutral. He was neither. He was not an alpha, neither was he an omega. Hydra was stumped for the first time. They had totally forgotten to take betas into account. But they couldn’t throw him out because Wanda and Pietro were inseparable. Throwing Pietro out would’ve meant Wanda too but Wanda was too powerful an alpha for them to let her go. So, they changed tactics and put Pietro in both. In the mornings he would train with us, and in the evenings with the omegas. He didn’t fit in well in either of the places and Hydra viewed this as a waste of their resources. That’s when Arnim Zola came to the orphanage.”

 

At that name, Bucky's face pales and his scent sickens in fear. He stops breathing for a couple of seconds and then begins hyperventilating. Steve tells him to breathe in and out, but even as he does so, the fear in his eyes doesn’t go down. All out of ideas, Steve pulls him into his arms, lets Bucky’s head rest on his shoulder as he massages the brunet’s scalp with his fingers. Bucky's eyes close just as Steve thought they would, and he starts breathing normally after a while. He doesn’t lift his head from Steve's shoulder but Steve doesn’t mind that at all. He continues running his fingers through Bucky's hair and it’s only when the chocolate scent in the room calms, that he speaks.

 

“Bucky, you don’t have to go on, it’s okay baby. I'm sorry I pushed. Bucky, deep breaths, c’mon deep breaths. You don’t have to go on anymore, baby, you did so well. That’s enough for today, Buck, you did so well.”

 

“No. I've never spoken about it before and I wanna do it now, Stevie. If it’s okay with you, I really wanna get this off my chest. May I, Stevie, may I?” the alpha pleads and Steve's heart breaks. He pulls Bucky's head towards his scent gland and lets the alpha breathe in the scent of his comfort and support.

 

“Of course, Buck. I'm always here for you, sweetheart, whenever you need me. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm with you till the end of the line, wherever you want that line to be,” he promises softly and that’s all the encouragement Bucky needs.  

 

“Arnim Zola did not care for Hydra’s idea to put Pietro in both practices but decided that it did, in fact, make his work a little easier. Pietro is extremely athletic and that led Zola to believe he would make an excellent fighter due to his agility and mobility. He decided to change Pietro's orientation and started hormone therapy on him.”

 

“Pietro’s young body could hardly withstand the first dose. He threw up all night and writhed in pain for the next few days. Natasha and I couldn’t bear to watch it unfold and the kid’s screams kept us awake at night. On the fourth night of being unable to sleep and after helping Pietro up from the toilet for the hundredth time, we decided that it was enough. They tortured us for years, but Wanda and Pietro were kids, just 11 years old at the time, and that really grated on our nerves. We knew that Hydra was fucked up, but to do such a thing to a child? We couldn’t stand by and watch it happen.”

 

Bile rises in the back of Steve's throat as he thinks about Zola and hydra’s cruel actions. He grits his teeth as the images of a young, scrawny boy writhing in pain flash behind his eyes. Nobody deserves this, least of all some of the best people Steve's met in his life. His heart rate picks up and his scent starts to soar in anger again, but he controls it. He keeps it sweet and comforting for Bucky even as it puts immense strain on his biology.

 

“We finally put our plan to action the next night. We told all the kids at the orphanage and together it wasn’t too easy to escape Hydra. After years of us being compliant, Hydra had gotten complacent. They thought we wouldn’t dare escape, so the security was pretty lax. And they had trained all of us really well…”

 

“Where did you guys go afterwards?” the omega asks after a while of silence, as his heart rate slows down and Bucky's breathing becomes calm and normal again.

 

“We came here. My aunt opened the door and to this day I can vividly remember the fear in her eyes as she looked at me. She fell to her knees to beg my forgiveness and requested me to not report her to the authorities. I agreed and in turn, she gave us shelter. There were fifteen of us and Natasha and I knew that my aunt would not be able to feed and clothe us all with her salary. We started doing small jobs in the neighbourhood to help, and when I turned 18 after a few months, my aunt left the house and I joined the army. Natasha stayed back to look after the kids, but by that time only the twins remained who were still too young to be out alone.”

 

“What happened then?”

 

“Natasha became a mother figure to Wanda and Pietro, and while Wanda was in awe of her red-haired elder sister, Pietro started looking forward to my visits. My parents’ bank accounts were in my name and the amount they had set aside for my college went into Wanda and Pietro’s college fund. They both got scholarships, so that became a little easier. Even before the twins left for college, Natasha left this house and got a small cottage on the outskirts of the city. She’s happier there than she ever has been in her life. And well you know the rest.”

 

Steve can feel the upturn of Bucky's lips on his scent gland and the lack of humour behind it in his heart. He thinks for a while about what he wants to say, but gives it up after a while when he realises nothing is gonna make any of it better but the truth. 

 

“I don’t know what to say, Buck. All my life, I thought I had a rough childhood but compared to the one you or Pietro led, I lived in luxury. I'm so sorry it all happened to you. You don’t deserve it, Buck, you don’t deserve all this bullshit that has happened to you.”

 

“Destiny’s a bitch, Stevie, but it’s all in the past. I'm happy now, aren’t I? I've got my family and my friends by my side and that’s all that matters. Hydra sucked, but I made some very good friends along the way.” Bucky lifts his head from Steve's shoulder as he speaks and gives Steve his first real smile of the day. Seeing Bucky's smile makes something in Steve's chest feel lighter and he unconsciously returns the gesture.

 

“And a boyfriend,” he cannot help but tease.

 

It’s really satisfying when Bucky blushes beautifully at the teasing.

 

“Yeah. Pietro surprised the hell out of me when I came back from one of the tours and he had grown as tall as I was. He winked at me and called me an old man, and I spent my entire leave trying to outperform him in something or the other. The kid was a menace!”

 

“When did you know it wasn’t just platonic?”

 

“Just before the twins turned 18. I was here on leave for a few days and Pietro was adamant to try some beer. I kept trying to tell him he was underage and that beer didn’t taste all that good, but he kept pouting and I finally let him. He spat out the first sip and dashed away to brush his teeth immediately. When he came back in all ashamed and embarrassed, unwillingly to make eye contact with me, I just realised that the thudding of my heart wasn’t platonic. So, I immediately fucked off back from leave.”

 

From the way Bucky's smile falls off his face in the end, Steve knows that there is another story there; a story that Bucky is not willing to let him know right now. Steve wants to know, needs to know why Bucky went back to the war zone without telling Pietro about his feelings, but he knows that it is none of his business. He has no right over that part of Bucky's past.

 

He has no right over any part of Bucky's past, present, or future…

 

“They say shared experience is a very strong base for a relationship, and you and Pietro have a mountain full of it. It’s like a fairy-tale isn’t it? You saved the damsel in distress and now you're both living happily ever after?” he smiles softly at the brunet because he is genuinely happy for Bucky and Pietro, but it still doesn’t make that familiar ache in his chest go away.

 

Bucky, for his part, doesn’t smile back. He tilts his head to the side and studies Steve as he seems to really think about the omega's words.

 

“I don’t know about the whole saving the damsel thing, Stevie. In some ways, didn’t you and I save each other too? In more ways than one? We’re not here falling in love,” he says softly and Steve's heart shatters completely. He looks away to the side for a beat, steels himself, and turns back towards Bucky with a smile on his face: a smile that feels fake and stuck on.  

 

“Yeah, we are not.”

 

Because they did not fall in love, only Steve did. He can’t bear to admit it, even to himself, but he knows that’s the feeling that rattles inside his chest. It is the feeling that makes even breathing difficult without Bucky, which makes every moment of Steve’s life better when Bucky smiles, which makes tears prick his eyes when he sees Bucky with Pietro. Steve's an expert at denial, but there is no denying that Bucky has become everything to Steve in a really short amount of time. Steve's days start with Bucky and they end with Bucky; Bucky has become the highlight of Steve's life, and that’s always going to be scary. But that’s the truth.  

 

It’s an unhealthy way to live, but Steve cannot think of any other way he would do it. Bucky loves another and Steve…

 

For Steve, it’s Bucky. And that’s not Bucky's fault.

 

“Thank you so much for listening, Stevie. I didn’t mean to dump my entire burden on you like that, but once I-”

 

“Don’t you dare, Buck. I am honoured that you chose to tell me all that, I'm so glad I could help you in some way to repay you for all that you do for me. I'm happy to be here for you, Buck,” he tells him honestly and flashes him a genuine smile. Steve can do this, he can be there for Bucky with a real smile and open arms. The brunet smiles as he takes one of Steve's hand in his own and rubs the omega’s bony knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

 

“Thank you. Wanna watch a movie with me? I’ll even let you choose.”

 

“Sure. How about “Mr. Peabody and Sherman”?” Steve asks as he makes himself comfortable on the couch and Bucky stands up to get the remote form the coffee table. He queues up the show on Netflix and takes a seat next to Steve again. 

 

“Perfect,” he grins as the movie begins and watching the light from the screen bounce off and colour Bucky's face in a hundred hues? Steve couldn’t agree more.  

 

**

They wake up in the morning in a tangle of limbs. Bucky's head is lolling on the back of the couch while Steve's is pillowed on Bucky's chest. The metal arm is draped around Steve's back while both of Steve's hands have wound themselves around the alpha’s torso. Their legs are tangled together in a manner that it certainly takes more than a couple of seconds for their legs to wake up.

 

There's no awkwardness in the morning for them even with the situation they found themselves in. They smile at each other, make their breakfast together, and decide to skip walking in favour of finishing the movie they certainly fell asleep in the middle of.

 

**

 

Notes:

If you guys wanna talk about the story or about stucky or just life in general, hit me up on tumblr. I'm apieceofurmind on tumblr and I'd love to talk to you.

Chapter 28: Blood of the Covenant is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb

Summary:

Pietro finally finds a big brother.

Notes:

I know I have been gone for too long. No excuses, just a very heartfelt chapter. Forgive me? Pretty please!

 

28^th October 2020

Pietro stands nervously at the door, his hand poised above the doorbell. He contemplates ringing the bell, then backs off, drops his hand and moves away from the door. He shakes his head at himself, this is no time to be a coward he reminds himself, and stands back up and rings the bell before he can back off again. Bucky will not push him away, he knows that, but sometimes compared to what's on Bucky's plate, his problems seem trivial and nothing but a burden. Bucky's got actual issues, he probably cannot deal with Pietro's on top of it all, especially after he's been doing that his whole life. He turns away from the door at the realization, but the door opens before he can make a run.

 

"Hello, Pietro, come in." the voice makes him further shrink on himself. He wasn't expecting Steve to be the one to open the door, but he knows it's too late now. The omega can smell Pietro's distress, he knows it even before he looks at Steve's face, but he's in no mood to have a talk like that with Steve. Even if he wanted to, he can't, the weight of his guilt is too heavy for him to face the omega in such a vulnerable situation.

 

"Hey, Steve, how's it going dude?" he plasters on a fake smile and tries to control his scent as much as he can. He cannot do it as well as Bucky and Steve can but he manages to have it somewhat under control. He remembers Bucky telling him that it was a good thing that he couldn't control his scent, that it meant that Bucky would always know what was on Pietro's mind so he could make it better.

 

It was a very cheesy, stupid, and romantic thing to say, but it dims in comparison to the fact that Bucky always knows exactly what's on Steve's mind…

 

"You okay, Pietro? You seem a little upset." The omega's brows furrow as he takes in Pietro's appearance so, the beta immediately changes the topic and rushes into the house.

 

It smells like vanilla and chocolate: a perfect blend of Steve and Bucky and it makes Pietro wanna throw up. He chokes back the sobs that threaten to choke him and turns around to look at Steve who has closed the door and is leaning against it.

 

"I'm fine. I came by to talk to Bucky; he in?"

 

"No, he's at the VA. He won't be back for at least a couple of hours. Do you wanna stay and wait? I was just going to start a new episode of Brooklyn 99," Steve offers and Pietro's first thought is to say no and run away from the house he's standing in but one look at Steve hopeful face and he knows he cannot leave. He knows Steve might be feeling a little lonely and decides to keep him company.

 

"Thank you. Bucky's got you hooked on this show, huh?" he asks as he takes a seat at the end of the couch and Steve does the same on the other end. The omega laughs as he queues up the show on Netflix and turns to Pietro with twinkling eyes.

 

"It's kinda grown on me, I guess, but I wouldn't give him credit. He gets a big head."

 

"That's him all right. Which episode is it?" Pietro agrees with a smile and settles in to make himself comfortable. It's a long shot at best, something he doesn't expect happening, but he hopes he'll forget all the things bothering him and just lose himself in Bucky's favourite show for some time. He doesn't wanna dwell on his past here, sitting side by side with Steve, because he knows his scent is gonna give him away before Bucky's come back.

 

"The Cruise. I like the relationship between Jake and Doug Judy. Best frenemies ever." Steve remarks and Pietro turns towards him with a raised brow.

 

"I'll begrudgingly agree because I cannot remember anybody else at the moment. But when I do, I'm gonna fight you on that."

 

"Deal." Steve laughs as he agrees and for a second Pietro basks in the sound. He feels happy hearing Steve laugh, the dude needs it after everything he's been through this year, but it's his guilt that makes the sound all the sweeter. Pietro is a bastard, he doesn't deserve Steve's kindness and hospitability, but he basks in it anyway. He's greedy…and he doesn't know how much longer he can keep doing this to Steve and Bucky.

 

The boys sit together in silence for a while, but Pietro's mind hardly gets the memo on it. It runs a mile a minute, going round and round in a loop, loud and obnoxious, till Pietro himself feels nauseous and dizzy from the experience. He coughs to hide his growing discomfiture and dabs at his eyes when the feelings get too overwhelming for him. This wasn't how this was supposed to go, life wasn't supposed to push him down anymore, but it has and all he can do is sit here and cry over it…

 

Life's a bitch but Pietro has somehow always been its bitch.

 

"Pietro, do you wanna talk about it with me? I can be a pretty good listener." Steve's soft voice breaks through the fog in his head and makes the younger beta shake his head in reflex immediately.

 

"I'm okay, Steve, you don't need to worry about me." He shrinks further in on himself as he replies and he can see Steve frown in the corner of his eye. He knows his scent is overwhelmingly gross with heartbreak and stupid feelings right now but he can't help himself anymore. He cannot hold it in, can't keep himself together anymore. The last thing he wants now is to push himself to conceal his scent.

 

"You scent tells me very differently," Steve tells him softly and it makes Pietro's blood boil. Scents! He's so fucking sick of them. He's sick of scents dictating everything to him. how he feels, how his boyfriend feels, who they are bonded to, who is home… he's done with it all. He just wants to rip his scent gland out and stomp down on it till it hurts the way he does. Every time he comes here, every time he is near Bucky…

 

"It's a goddamn menace I tell you. Such a fucking inconvenience, just shouting out how I'm feeling to everybody. I hate it! Humans shouldn't be going around smelling like this."

 

Steve doesn't respond to his snarl, doesn't respond at all to him. The omega just gets up and walks out of the room, his calm scent making Pietro all the angrier at the moment.

 

None of this is Steve's fault, in fact, he doesn't even know what's wrong. Steve's new here, not in the sense of time passed, but in terms of experiences. The blonde knows about Bucky and Pietro's shitty life but he doesn't know the gritty details like the two do. Steve knows the PG version of everything that happened, he doesn't know the shitty repercussions that Bucky couldn't bring himself to tell him. Steve understands pain, Pietro knows that, but the young beta doesn't know if he is selfish enough to put Steve through his.

 

Lost in thought, Pietro doesn't notice Steve come back in. The omega clears his throat from somewhere above the beta's head and Pietro looks up at the smell of hot chocolate.

 

"I know you think that your scent an inconvenience and a menace, but I think it's really neat. You know why? Because it lets your friend know that you're upset and that he should offer you a cup of hot chocolate and a hug." Steve's soft words are accompanied by an equally kind smile and Pietro can't help but smile back at the blonde. His smile doesn't reach his eyes, but he genuinely puts in an effort as he takes the cup from the omega.

 

"I don't want to talk about it." He tells Steve as the blonde takes a seat next to him and the omega shrugs in response.

 

"And you don't have to. But that doesn't mean you should be alone right now, I'll be right here to keep you company, okay, unless you wanna be alone? Do you wanna be alone for a while?"

 

"N…No, I would love some company right now." Pietro's admits with a small sigh and Steve smiles at him from over the rim of his cup.

 

"Okay." There's no cruel smile form the young omega and Pietro is glad for that. They both sit in silence for some time while the show resumes in the background. Pietro's hardly paying attention to it now, his thoughts fully consumed by his earlier thoughts and he can instinctively feel Steve tense up too as the episode draws on. He knows it's his scent giving away his game, but he cannot help it anymore. He lets Steve understand that he is scared, upset, angry, overwhelmed and a thousand other things that he doesn't know how to articulate.

 

He knows he needs to find his words, use them, speak them for Steve to understand, to know, but he lets his scent do the talking for him. It's always worked against him but today he wants it to do his work for him.

 

He doesn't know why he wants to tell Steve everything, why he wants to unburden on Steve, but he does. He knows it's not the same pull that Bucky talks about, the pull that makes him come clean to Steve, to tell Steve his closely guarded past, his fears, his pleas, but Pietro's sure he's feeling something akin to the same.

 

He doesn't have the bond that Bucky has to Steve, but he knows Steve is his friend, always will be.

 

"It's about my sister," He finally says, as the episode finishes and credits roll. He can see from the corner of his eyes as Steve's eyes open wide and he rushes to put his cup down, but the young beta doesn't say anything.

 

He concentrates on breathing deeply, counting till three and letting go.

 

"Is she okay? What happened?" Steve asks after a while, turning his body slightly towards the beta and keeping his eyes closely trained on the younger blonde.

 

"She's okay. I…it's my birthday on Friday. I'll be turning 20 years old."

 

Pietro can sense Steve's surprise at the abrupt change of tone, but the omega surprisingly goes along with it. He changes his tone from worried to happy, but his scent still gives off enough concern to make Pietro's eyes wet.

 

He doesn't know how Steve can be this selfless, especially to Pietro: who stands between Steve and the man he loves. Pietro could never do it, and he has the receipts to prove it; the secrets he guards and makes others guard.

 

"That's great, Pietro. Many, many happy returns of the day."

 

"My sister and I haven't spoken to each other in months. I…I thought I hate her, but I…I don't know, Steve, maybe I don't. I'm angry at her though. So fucking angry." Steve's surprise at the segway leaks into his scent now and Pietro feels bad for toying with the omega. But he isn't doing this intentionally, he just doesn't know what he wants to say, how to say it.

 

It's easier with Bucky because he doesn't have to explain anything to Bucky. Bucky knows why Pietro is angry with his sister, knows why he hasn't spoken to Wanda in months, cannot bear to look at her. Pietro doesn't need to go into his past with Bucky, he just needs to stay in the present.

 

Staying in the present with Bucky is easy but dwelling in the past with Steve is not.

 

"What happened, Pietro? Why are you angry with your sister?" Steve's voice is closer now, just like the man himself. For a second Pietro thinks that Steve might hug him, touch him, offer him some form of tactile comfort but the omega doesn't. He simply takes Pietro's cup from his hands and puts it down on the table.

 

It's only when the cup leaves his hands that Pietro realizes how tightly he was holding on to it. Any more pressure and it would have shattered in the beta's hands, cutting into him, hurting him.

 

He doesn't know whether to thank Steve or not.

 

"It will be the first birthday we'll be celebrating without each other. We've always been together for our birthdays. I'd always let her cut the cake even though I'm the elder one and she'd tease me that it didn't make me any smarter than her. But she'd still feed me the first bite."

 

He takes a deep breath as he waits for Steve to say something again. But this time, the omega says nothing. He just looks on intently at Pietro's face and waits for him to say whatever is on his mind. Pietro smiles faintly and takes another deep breath that he exhales in a sigh.

 

"She doesn't like Bucky, that's why we fought. She said some horrible things to him two years back and because of that I almost lost Bucky. She called him a paedophile, said it was disgusting and twisted: the feelings he had for me. She accused him of taking advantage of our vulnerability, told him that he was like any other knot-head around. Can you fucking believe it? All these things to Bucky." He turns towards Steve in anger, not at the blonde but at his sister, at the words that were spoken years ago but still hurt Bucky to this day. He's angry at himself for never coming to know of this, for being in the dark about everything.

 

He turns towards Steve because he knows Steve can understand his anger, can understand exactly how it feels to Pietro. Because just like Pietro, Steve loves Bucky, loves him with every fibre and being of his body…

 

Because just like Pietro, Bucky has saved Steve's life in some way.

 

"Shit! That's…I don't know what to say. Shit!" Steve swears emphatically and Pietro nods at the shared sentiment.

 

"Yeah, shit is about the right thing to say. She went to see him a few months back, gave him her 'permission' to date me because she was worried that I wasn't eating and drinking properly." He snorts self-deprecatingly as he remembers feeling broken and unworthy because Bucky didn't love him. Remembers the weakest moment of his life when he had abused Bucky for not loving him back, remembers a dark moment when all he wanted to do was shout and scream at Bucky for giving him false hopes and dreams. He should've known that Bucky would never do that to him, should've trusted the alpha, but he didn't and he still carries that guilt with him along with the anger he feels towards his sister. "She told me to my face the things she said to Bucky. She told me that she had kept him away. And then on top of everything else, she had the gall to stand in front of me and tell me that she had done all that for me, to protect me. Apparently, she was looking out for me."

 

As he remembers the things she told him, the words she had used for the man he loves, Pietro feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. He doesn't try to hold them back, just lets them fall. His scent has been wailing for a good moment and he doesn't bother with it either, not when Steve's scent is right there with his.

 

He turns to look at the omega who sits mere inches from him and draws strength from the empathy he sees on that face. Steve knows how it feels to have an alpha make decisions for you, to dictate your life to you, and Pietro finds that shared experience in his blue eyes, in the concern radiating off of him and his scent.

 

"I loved my sister, Steve, she was my favourite person in the world. We were inseparable, even at birth, literally, and we often liked to tell others that we could read each other's minds. And for the most part, we could too. But apparently, we couldn't tell what the other's heart wanted. She thought I wanted to be kept away from Bucky and I thought she had my best interests in her heart."

 

Steve keeps quiet for a while and Pietro joins him in his silent contemplation. He doesn't know what to say anymore, he's said all he had come to say. It's his first birthday without his sister and it has weighed heavily on his mind for the past few days. But now that it is in the open, Pietro feels like it's such a small issue, something so trivial. He almost starts smiling to himself as he realizes it, but Steve's words make him stop dead in his steps.

 

"Pietro, your sister was scared. She'd only seen bad guys up until then. Y-"

 

"Steve, you and I both know that Bucky is a good guy. And even if you don't, it's okay. But for my sister to believe he's that bad? You know why that sucks? You know why it's the cruellest and most retarded shit I've ever heard in my life? Because Bucky saved her fucking life. He saved her life and mine, and the life of 15 other kids from that hell hole. I know you know that story, so I won't go into the details, but tell me this Steve: how ungrateful must one be to accuse the person, who saved your life and your brother's, of being a paedophile and taking advantage of somebody's vulnerability?" He knows he's shouting in Steve's face, but he cannot stop it once he starts. Of all people, he thought Steve would understand. Steve who knows how crappy it is to have an alpha make decisions for you; Steve who knows how it feels to be told one thing and have it be another; Steve who loves and respects Bucky.

 

So, when Steve deviates and takes Wanda's side, Pietro fights. He doesn't know if he's fighting Steve or his words, but once he starts, his scent follows.

 

"Can I say something that will sound absolutely horrible in context? I think it might help put things from your sister's perspective." Steve placates and Pietro acquiesces reluctantly. He doesn't want to hear anything more but he knows he needs to give Steve a chance to explain his stand.

 

"Sure."

 

"My dad saved Bucky's life in Afghanistan and you know what he asked in return? That Bucky marries me. Bucky made a promise to my dad and Joseph took advantage of that vulnerability. My dad priced Bucky's life at his freedom. He could've been married to you by now had it not been for me, you could've stayed here, slept here," Steve says and Pietro understands that. He knows alphas are shitty, he's seen shitty alphas his entire life. Hid dad was a shitty alpha who abandoned his sister and him the moment their mother passed away, Alexander Pierce was a shitty alpha, Brock Rumlow was another asshole. He's been around horrible alphas his whole life and that's why he knows Bucky's not one of them, never has been and never will be.

 

But Steve beats him to his rebuttal.

 

"Bucky is not my father, and I find it impossible to believe he could ever do to you what my father did to him. But you must remember, Pietro, he could've if he wanted to. Your sister's fears were legitimate, it's her actions that are questionable."

 

"Steve, you think Bucky would do such a thing? You think he's capable of something like that? What the fuck, dude?"

 

"No, I do not think Bucky would ever do any of that. I've lived here for the better part of a year now and he's been nothing but a gentleman to me. He could've hurt me, could've used me in my heat, could've relegated me to a maid and nothing else in this house, but he didn't do any of that. He treated me with the utmost respect and kindness. But all men are not like Bucky, all alphas are not as chivalrous as Bucky is. My dad wasn't and neither are 3 out of 5 alphas you'll see on the streets. You are thinking from a very subjective point, you just need to look at it objectively. Replace Bucky's name with any other person's and you'll see why your sister was concerned."

 

As Steve says that Pietro's eyes widen. Replacing Bucky's name with Pierce's or Brock's makes Pietro's eyes widen and his heart beat faster. It would've been…his life…

 

"You think she was right?" he asks in a small voice, his heart still thudding from the images his brain just produced. He looks at Steve with shame in his eyes and Steve meets his with love and comfort.

 

"Hell no! Her fears were legitimate, but her way of handling them was not. She had no right to make that decision for you. She had no right to say what she said to Bucky. She had no right to drive the two of you apart. She should've shared her concerns with you and given her opinion on the same. What you wanted to do should've been left to you. Imposing her will on either of you was not right. Communication is good, confrontation is bad," Steve tells him with a nod and Pietro sees the light in the argument. Steve's right, he realizes, even if Wanda's fears were legitimate, the way she handled them was not. She should've discussed these fears with Pietro, maybe even with Bucky, and even then, she had no right to make those decisions.

 

Communication, like Steve said, not a confrontation.

 

It also reminds Pietro of the secret he's concealing and not communicating, but he swallows his guilt and bows his head.

 

"You think she should have left the decision to me. She had no right to decide that Bucky was bad for me."

 

"No, she didn't. I didn't have siblings growing up, Piet, but I'm sure I would've been equally protective of them too. Everything that gets to them has to go through me. But the final choice is always theirs, it's yours. Don't let anybody take that away from you," Steve tells him with conviction and Pietro's nods as he lets the thought marinate in his head. 

 

Steve says nothing as Pietro thinks but his presence remains a heavy physical blanket that radiates comfort. His scent engulfs Pietro, vanilla and a hint of chocolate, and it's like being enveloped by the two people he loves the most at the moment. The thought almost makes him smile and he opens his eyes with his mind made.

 

"You make a good point about my sister's intention, but I don't know if I can ever forgive her for it. She hurt me, Steve, she lied to me and as a result, it caused me a lot of pain; it caused Bucky a lot of pain. She hurt the both us with both her actions and her words, and I don't know if I'm a big enough person to forgive her and move on," he tells the omega with conviction and turns to him with guilty eyes.

 

He expects Steve to say that it's not fine, that he needs to apologize, that he needs to be a bigger person, but Steve's answer shocks him.

 

"Then don't. If you can't forgive her, then you don't have to, Pietro. Irrespective of what people like to say, forgiving someone else is not about some great sacrifice that makes us God. We always forgive others to feel good about ourselves, to get rid of our burden. We don't like to get weighed down by the burden of hating somebody, so, we immediately say that we forgive them without taking into consideration how we actually feel. We forgive, but we don't forget, and that pain stays with us forever. If you can't seem to forgive her, then don't. You don't owe it to anybody," Steve finishes simply and Pietro's mouth falls open.

 

Of all the things he thought Steve would say, this hadn't been one of them. He had expected Steve to give him a talk about being good and kind and forgiving. Steve's a good guy and Pietro expects him to behave in a certain manner and it clouds his judgement. He waits for a beat, maybe longer, before finally asking the question that has plagued him for a while now.

 

"She's my family…shouldn't we forgive family?" his voice is nothing but a whisper, a prayer that Steve says no.

 

Because he doesn't want to forgive Wanda. He's ready to be cordial and let go of his anger, but he's upset and he wants some more time. He doesn't want Wanda to be forgiven so easily.

 

It's not pettiness, it's just standing up for himself.

 

"No. No, Piet, we shouldn't have to forgive somebody just because they're family. Family is who you choose Pietro, not the ones who are related by blood. Family never hurts you; they keep you safe and they keep you happy. They're there for you when you're down, and they're there for you when you're broken. And even if your family hurts you at times, you're under no obligation to forgive them. Take your time, heal, and then forgive if you want to. Your family will always understand that. Your family will wait for you," Steve tells him softly and finally closes his palm over Pietro's.

 

Pietro clutches the hand with both of his and fights back tears that threaten to splash across them. He sniffs once, then again, and finally looks back at Steve with a wobbly smile and watery eyes.

 

"Do they also make you hot chocolate when you need it and give you company when you're sad?"

 

He sees Steve's eyes light up at the declaration, can see love and concern in the cerulean blues. Steve nods once, then wipes under his eyes with his free hand.

 

"Yeah, yeah they do. They'll even hold you close and tell you that you deserve the best and the only person who's allowed to decide what's best for you is you. They'll tell you that they can't wait to be there beside you as you go on to do amazing things and make them proud." Steve's voice betrays the tears he tried hard to conceal and it makes Pietro's heart feel full.

 

He had been so worried about being without family on his birthday that he had forgotten that his family didn't end in blood. Steve was his family, Bucky was his family, Natasha and Clint were his family. Wanda might've been related by blood, but they were his family by choice. In his case, the blood of the covenant had been infinitely thicker than the water of the womb.

 

"Thank you, Steve, thank you so much."

 

"You don't have to thank family, Pietro," Steve tells him with a small smile and Pietro fights his instincts to throw his arms around the smaller omega and pull him into an embrace. He smiles back at the blonde and airs the question that he's always wanted to ask Steve, something he has never dared to ask him about.

 

"Did you ever forgive your father?" he asks softly, half wishing that Steve doesn't hear the question and they don't have to sit in awkward silence, but there is no such luck.

 

The resounding silence that follows is only a testament to how clearly Steve heard that question.

 

"No, I did not. And I felt bad about it for a while, but then somebody told me that my father was an asshole who didn't deserve my forgiveness or my respect. I realized that's exactly what I wanted to hear and stopped reprimanding myself for never forgiving my father. Your family doesn't hurt you, Pietro, and if they do, they're not family, and you certainly don't have to forgive them for it."

 

Pietro doesn't realize he's holding his breath until after he has let it go. He grips Steve's hand tighter and bows his head as thinks over what Steve said.

 

"I will forgive my sister, but not now. Someday, maybe after a while, when I come to terms with it myself. I'll forgive her then, and we'll put this behind us forever. She'll still wait for me, right, or will it be too late?"

 

"Do you love her despite being upset with her? Does she love you?"

 

"I do love her despite everything. I am angry with her right now, but I'll always love her, not because she's my sister, but because I want to. And I know she loves me too," he replies with conviction and he can almost feel the ghost of Steve's smile on his back. He lifts his head to look at the omega and is treated to the sight of a beautiful smile.

 

For a second he can't help but remember that Steve is a beautiful human being, both inside and outside, and it makes his heart clench painfully. He needs to tell Bucky the truth, he cannot live with it anymore.

 

"Then she'll wait, Pietro. She'll wait till the day you're ready and then she'll give you a long hug to make up for all the time you guys missed," Steve answers with the same smile, unbeknown to the young beta's mental turmoil.

 

Pietro looks at Steve intently and just stares at the man he doesn't know what to do with. Objectively, Pietro knows he should hate Steve, considering everything he knows, but he cannot bring himself to do it. From the first time he laid eyes on Steve, he'd known that Steve was different, that Steve would play an important role here in this house. He remembers Natasha murmuring the same to Clint, about how Steve would change things drastically. He remembers the flash of jealousy when he had heard Steve was Bucky's husband, remembers the dizzying anger. They've come a long way now, he considers Steve a friend now, despite everything.

 

Despite the fact that Steve's in love with Bucky, Pietro's Bucky, and Pietro can smell that love in everything Steve does. He can smell it on Steve, on the couch, in every nook and cranny of the house. He can smell that love in every dish, every glass, and in the cup of hot chocolate, he just had.

 

He can smell Steve's love on Bucky…

 

And yet, Pietro loves Steve, loves him like a brother. And whatever happens in the aftermath of his revelation, Pietro will continue to love Steve. 

 

"Steve, can I have that hug now?" because he doesn't know if he'll get to again and he desperately wants it now. After everything this day has thrown at him, he just wants to sink into his friend's arms and inhale the scent of vanilla.

 

"Of course, Piet. I got you, honey, I got you," Steve murmurs as he pulls Pietro into his arms and Pietro goes along bonelessly. He sinks into the embrace like he wanted to and despite being taller than Steve, still manages to bend himself in a way that allows him to rest his weary head on Steve's bony clavicle. He inhales Steve's calming scent and revels in the way Steve brushes the nape of his neck and combs through his locks with his fingers. 

 

"You would've made a great elder brother. Maybe that's why God never gave you a younger sibling because she knew I would get jealous of that kid," he tells Steve honestly and Steve's resulting laughter makes him warm to his very core. 

 

"Who said God didn't give me a younger brother? He's right here with me, crying and slobbering all over my sweatshirt."

 

"That was super sappy and a little mean, but I'll take it, you dork. I love you too," he whispers the words into Steve's sweatshirt. He tries to surreptitiously wipe his nose on the said sweatshirt and fails, and grins as Steve's laugh sounds in his ear.

 

They sit like that for a while, both content and happy, till Steve breaks the silence with the best words ever. 

 

"Wanna play Mario kart so I can kick your butt?"

 

"I'll kick your butt, old man. Get ready to eat my dust," Pietro replies eagerly as he dashes towards the controller and just like that, they leave their heavy conversation behind and settle into the most sibling thing they could do: compete. 

 

**

"Hey, baby, where did you go?" Bucky's husky voice carries him towards the bed and he grins at the mop of messy hair peeking out from the top of the covers. He pulls the covers back as he settles in next to the brunet and places a chaste kiss to his lips.

 

"Had to piss. Go back to sleep, sweetheart, you've got places to be tomorrow. I'm right here, Buck, I got you," he murmurs affectionately as Bucky wraps his arms around him and holds on tight. 

 

"Good night, Piet, love you."

 

"Good night, Buck, I love you so much…" he doesn't know how many more times he'll get to say this, how many more times he'll hear Bucky say it to him.

 

He burrows further into Bucky's embrace and closes his eyes shut. As he takes a deep breath, he cannot help but smell chocolate with just a touch of vanilla…

 

**

Notes:

All my frequent ABO readers know what is happening, don't they? ;)

Chapter 29: Idiots in Love: Part 1

Notes:

The chapter everyone has been waiting for: Part 1

2nd November 2020

 

Pietro's party winds down well into the night and Steve's bone-tired from all the excitement of the day. Just like his birthday, Pietro's birthday had also been celebrated with a too-big cake, barbeque, and all their friends. Some of Pietro's friends from college had joined the celebration and they had blended in with Steve's family almost seamlessly. They had eaten and drank to their heart's content and had a great time. Considering tomorrow was Saturday nobody was in a hurry to leave and Steve didn't mind. He loved having his family come over, even with how much he loved being just Bucky and him, except Pietro.

 

He patted his pockets to check for his phone and let out a sigh of frustration when he remembered that he had probably left it out back when he had gone to pick empty beer bottles. He couldn't hold so many and his phone had to be sacrificed instead.

 

He threw open the door to the patio and almost screamed at the sight of the pale body leaning on the railing. However, before he could scream and wake up the neighbours, his brain caught up with his mind and he recognised Pietro's pale features. He exhaled deeply and rubbed his palms together as he walked towards the beta, who stood leaning against the railing of the porch, facing the backyard.

 

 "Why are you standing out here, Pietro? It's chilly. You'll catch a cold on your birthday." He doesn't expect the blonde to jump at the sound of his voice but it does catch him off guard that Pietro doesn't even seem to notice his voice. He merely turns towards Steve and looks at him blankly.

 

The younger blonde blinks once, then again, and that seems to give him back some senses.

 

"I didn't notice the chill. I've been thinking."

 

"Well, don't hurt yourself," Steve retorts with a smile. He expects Pietro to smile at the joke, maybe even laugh, but he does neither. He merely continues to stare at Steve, then at the ground below him, and turns around to rest his elbows against the railing. His shoulders sag at the movement and Steve finds himself worrying about the beta.

 

"Are you thinking about your sister?"

 

Pietro shakes his head as Steve approaches him at the railing and turns to look at the omega. Steve meets his gaze steadily with his own and mirrors Pietro's posture on the railing.

 

"No. I've been thinking about you, me, Bucky. We lead such intertwined lives," the beta confesses in a soft voice and Steve is taken aback at that. He knew the other shoe was waiting to drop, he just didn't know it would happen today.

 

Pietro's twenty now, too young to be living with his boyfriend, but still old enough to want to and be able to do so too. He's gonna be thinking about them, all three of them and their current situation, and Steve's only surprised it took so long. He's still married to Bucky, considering everything that has happened this year, they haven't gotten around to signing the divorce papers or even applying for them, but Steve knows he cannot keep living here.

 

He's glad Pietro is the one bringing it up; he doesn't know how he would've handled it if Bucky was the one asking him to leave.

 

"Well, it's natural considering we practically live together." He attempts a small laugh but it falls flat. He can hear the tremor in his own voice and he hates it, hates how the idea of leaving this place, the first place he's ever called home, is causing him to lose all control over himself.

 

He doesn't dare sniff the air; he cannot handle whatever his scent is gonna throw at him. 

 

Pietro doesn't say anything either. He looks at Steve for a long second and turns back to stare out at Bucky's little backyard. Steve and Bucky have started digging it up again to plant their winter plants but it looks like only Bucky will the one to do all the work.

 

Steve's gonna be somewhere far away, too afraid to come back, too attached to go far.

 

"You love him, don't you? You love Bucky." Pietro's melancholy voice cuts through Steve like a knife and he almost whips around to stare at the young beta. He barely manages not to hyperventilate but his cheeks burn with the shame of being caught.

 

"I…I do. He's such a close friend of mine now, he's my best friend," Steve wheezes out and it sounds unconvincing even to him. He winces at the poor lie, bows his head in shame and awaits his punishment.

 

"Yes, he is. But you don't love him like that, Steve. You love him the way I do, maybe even stronger and more passionately than I do." He can tell from Pietro's voice that the beta is standing facing him, that he's looking at Steve's face as he speaks. Steve wants to look back, wants to tell Pietro how sorry he is, wants to beg Pietro for forgiveness. Pietro gave Steve liberties and freedoms in a home Steve has no place in and all Steve has done in return is fall in love with Pietro's boyfriend.

 

To say Steve was ungrateful would be an understatement.

 

"Pietro…I…" he begins his apology but the beta waves him off.

 

"I'm not confronting you, Steve, and I'm not here to tell you to back off."

 

Steve doesn't listen, he just barrels on with his apology. He struggles to lift his gaze and look Pietro in the eye but his words sound sincere and heartfelt.

 

Because he is sorry for falling in love with Bucky.

 

However, he finds that he does not regret it one bit.

 

"I'm sorry, Pietro, I never meant to fall in love with him. He loves you and I don't intend to come between that. If my presence makes you insecure, I'll leave. I never intended to stay this long; I've overstayed my welcome." He feels tears prick the corners of his eyes but he doesn't let them fall. He doesn't even sniff, just holds his breath till it feels like he's going to die. He wonders what Pietro is thinking right now: if his features are twisted in anger, but he doesn't find it in himself to lift his head and take a look.

 

Steve Rogers never runs away from a fight, but he cannot face his younger brother whose trust he has breached.

 

"Please don't leave, it is I who should. I…he loves you, Steve, he's in love with you. Nobody intends to fall in love, they just wake up one day and realise they're in love. Bucky loves you; he just hasn't realised it."

 

For several seconds, Steve feels like he's not breathing. He stills completely and his heartbeat thunders in his ears. He doesn't say anything as his brain screams that him that this is a trap. It's a cruel joke Pietro is playing and Steve's brain knows that.

 

It's the heart that refuses to listen. It soars in hope even as Steve wills it down with the sheer force of will.

 

It's a cruel joke, he reminds himself. Don't fall for it, he tells himself. 

 

"Pietro, what are you talking about? It's not true! He loves you, he's in love with you. You're his boyfriend, Pietro." He imagines he would be shouting but what comes out is a dazed whisper. He doesn't sound like himself anymore, just a broken shell of a man who hopes against hope, even as everything tells him otherwise.

 

He sounds like a man who lost everything and just found out he's got something more to lose.

 

But he stares into Pietro's eyes as he says this and that is his only victory. He'll take it, he'll take any small mercies of fate.

 

"Yes, I am, but he stopped loving me a long time before, Steve. He loves me, he'll always love me, but he's in love with you. I've seen Bucky in love with me, Steve, and I've seen him with you. It's the same Bucky, but the love he feels for you is so…he's never looked at me like that like I am all he wants, needs." He stops as he stares into Steve's eyes, smiles at whatever he sees there. "I know you feel the same way because I've seen the way you look at him and I've seen the same look in my own eyes. Poetic, isn't it?" From the tears shining in his eyes, Steve knows it's not poetic, for either of them.

 

But he also knows that Pietro is not playing a cruel joke on him, cannot be with the tears in his eyes and the foul stench of grief in his scent. Pietro believes every word he is saying but Steve doesn't.

 

"Pietro, he doesn't love me, he-"

 

"You keep denying his feelings for you, but you haven't told me about yours." Steve doesn't mind the interruption since it gives him time to think about what he wants to say. He didn't know where he was going with the earlier statement, just knew that he had to say something.

 

But this question? Steve knows exactly what needs to be said here and he also knows that Pietro might not want to hear it. 

 

"You didn't ask me, you only told me I love him."

 

"Because it's true. You do, don't you?" There's desperation in the beta's eyes, in his scent and this time Steve doesn't try to lie. He takes a deep breath, prepares himself for any and all consequences and meets his gaze head-on.

 

"I do. I love Bucky. I'm so sorry, Pietro, I'm so sorry."

 

"Why are you apologising to me, Steve? I'm happy for you, for both of you. I can only dream about a love like this, all-encompassing and selfless. I admire the bond you share and dare I say, I'm fucking jealous of it. I'm not angry or jealous that Bucky chose you, that he wants you, but I envy this relationship of yours." Pietro's hands come to clutch at his forearms, nothing but love and happiness in his touch, and Steve melts into it.

 

He cannot believe the boy in front of him, shedding tears for the love he's losing while still smiling with happiness for Steve. Pietro is a beautiful paradox at that moment and that convinces Steve that he is mistaken.

 

Bucky would never choose Steve over this beautiful human. If Steve is everything good, Pietro is everything best. Where Steve is gold, Pietro is diamond. Where Steve is beautiful, Pietro is exquisite.

 

Bucky would have to be a fool to let go of Pietro and Steve knows Bucky's is no fool.

 

Pietro is mistaken and Steve needs to make him understand that before his heart starts believing Pietro's words.

 

"We still don't know he loves me, Pietro, maybe you are mistaken. He's still yours."

 

"He hasn't been mine in a very long time, Steve. You don't trust my word, but do you trust Natasha's?" he asks, all faux innocence on his face and Steve can feel the blush rise across his cheeks and stain the top of his ears.

 

"Natasha thinks Bucky is in love with me? Does she know how I feel? Shit! Does everybody know?" his panic is mainly about Bucky but he doesn't want to bring it up, doesn't feel like he has any right to.

 

Does Bucky know? Did Bucky put Pietro up to this? Is he being thrown out on Bucky's behest? Is Bucky behind this joke?

 

In his panic, he forgets that this is not a joke, he forgets the honesty he saw on Pietro's face. He breathes to control his reaction and is immediately hit with a wave of shame when he realises that Pietro was waiting for him to catch his breath. He blinks back tears at the embarrassment he feels and meets Pietro's gaze defiantly.

 

"Steve, when Natasha threatened you and then welcomed you into the family, what did you think she was doing? Friends don't get the shovel talk, Steve," Pietro explains slowly and Steve prays for the ground to split open and swallow him up.  He blinks slowly before shifting away from Pietro and turns around to look at the backyard.

 

"How does everyone know? I don't even see Natasha often."

 

"Your mom could also see it, it's hard not to. You both stink of it, quite literally. Both your scents when you are next to each other are unbearable. So sweet: doused in admiration, respect and, so much love."

 

Steve doesn't return Pietro's watery smile as he thinks back upon what Pietro said. His mom knew…she knew and that's why she told Steve to stay back. She knew Steve loved Bucky and she didn't tell him to snap out of it. Why? Why did she think this was okay?

 

He remembers the days following his heat and is hit with more bemusement.  Her words and actions don't make sense anymore.

"Your heart will not mend itself whole if you break it. There will always be jaded edges, broken pieces, scattered remains. Be careful with it, Stevie, don't let somebody else be in charge of it."

She knew what he was feeling, she has always known. Even before Steve knew. And she still left him here with Bucky. She knew this would only lead to heartbreak and she still left him here.

 

What did she see here that she thought this would no longer mean heartbreak for Steve but something else? What did she see in Bucky?

 

"Pietro, I-"

 

"He's never spoken about Hydra; not even at the VA. Sam knows about Hydra but only that it's something Bucky absolutely refused to talk about. Sam tried so hard too until Natasha paid him a scary visit. I always used to think that the only person he would talk to about it would be to Nat but that he couldn't because she had been there with him. Then you came along and I was seeing a whole new Bucky. He is not someone I would call a social butterfly but the two of you took to each other so quickly that everybody was surprised. He hates being vulnerable but you changed that about him, or maybe you just brought it out in him. And then the nightmares happened, and the whole Hydra talk and I knew I had lost him. When I felt the first stab of pain at how close you were, it wasn't about the fact that I was losing my boyfriend to you, it was that I had lost my best friend to you. He is closer to you than he's ever been with me and I would have to be a grade-A asshole to keep that from him. He deserves the best, Steve, everything good and rosy, and if that's not me, then I don't want to stand in the way of whoever that is. The final decision here is Bucky's, but I just want you to know that I will not stand in the way of his happiness," Pietro tells him with a conviction that Steve feels in his bones. He nods before he realises he's doing it and chuckles softly.

 

He should be surprised at everything he's hearing but somehow, he's not. Everybody, apparently, knew about his feelings for Bucky, his mom thought there was a future here, and apparently, Bucky was in love with him. Steve didn't know if he believed the last one yet, but time would tell, he was sure of that.

 

Even if Bucky doesn't love him, Steve can be a friend to him, his best friend. He can handle that, he knows that; heartbreak be damned. And whatever Bucky decides, Steve's game.  

 

"You're one of the best people I know, Pietro, I don't know how I could ever take your place in Bucky's life. You're amazing and I don't know if I could ever live up to this." He itches to pull Pietro into his arms but he resists the urge. He doesn't know if Pietro wants that from a guy he's convinced he's lost his boyfriend to, so he doesn't try to. Steve wipes under his eyes as he grabs the young beta's hands and squeezes it lovingly.

 

"You're not taking my place in his life, Steve, you're taking your own place. Your place is next to him, always has been, we all have just been slow at seeing it. You'll take care of him, right? You'll love him enough for the two of us?" Tears stream down Pietro's eyes as he speaks and Steve feels them deep in his gut, heavy and painful. He feels one lone tear making its way down his own pale cheek and he swipes at it with more force than necessary. 

 

"If he'll let me, I will. I promise, Pietro, I'll keep him happy," he promises and Pietro smiles softly at him. 

 

"He is happy, has been ever since you came into his life." He pauses as he deliberates something over in his head. When he looks up its with pleading and scared eyes. "Can I still come to hang out with you guys? I love both of you so much."

 

At that question, Steve cannot help himself anymore. He pulls the breaking beta into his arms and folds his arms tightly around him. He sways them side to side as he massages the back of Pietro's neck gently, offering comfort through scent and touch.

 

"This will always be your home, Pietro, come whenever you want. This changes nothing about our relationship, you're still my younger brother, always will be. I love you, Piet, I promise."

 

He hears the beta sniffle and sniff, following which he starts chuckling wetly. Steve frowns and pulls back from the hug to see the young beta laugh wryly.

 

"Why are you laughing? What's happening, Pietro? Are you okay?"

 

"Your scents noticed what's happening long before your brains did. You spell like vanilla and a little bit of chocolate, and he smells like chocolate with a hint of vanilla. Like you've marked each other, bonded," the beta tells him humourlessly and Steve's world comes crashing down on him for a minute.

 

They've never…they wouldn't have done that to Pietro. No! he thinks that's the reason for the wry look on Pietro's face. Pietro thinks they have…

 

"Bonded? No! We've never," he pleads with the beta and is surprised to see the beta smile at him, something sympathetic, kind.

 

"I know, Steve, I didn't mean it like that. It's an emotional bond, I think, your scents are holding on to the other's because it's comforting. Bucky comforts you when you're upset and you do the same for him. Your body has started associating Bucky's scent with safety, comfort, and happiness, and is holding on to it. That's why you guys smell like home to each other. Thick-headed fools never realised this." He grins as he finishes and Steve's head swims with the new information.

 

It puts so many things in perspective, explains so many things. Why Bucky could always read him so well, how Bucky knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed. It explained Steve's instinct to always let Bucky sniff at his scent gland during moments of distress, it explained why Steve found comfort in Bucky's scent during his heat.

 

It explains his sleepless nights when he was away from Bucky, explains Bucky's nightmare-less sleep with Steve around.

 

It explains why Bucky has become home.

 

"How long have we smelled like this?" he asks in wonder, his astonishment spiking his scent till he smells the chocolate mixed in it. How had he ever missed it? It's right there, like Bucky's mark on him, their bond. 

 

"For very long, Steve. You found comfort in Bucky's scent during the heat and he went into a rut when he smelled yours. I've kept this secret for so long and it just feels good to get it off my chest. You belong with each other, something your scents decided long back. It's your chance now, don't disappoint all of us." Pietro's smile abates Steve's shock at the fact that his scent sent Bucky into a rut. That's why the brunet had disappeared for so many days.

 

He wonders how Bucky didn't realise when he went into a rut that it was Steve's doing. Maybe, Pietro was right, they were two thick head fools.

 

"Thank you, Pietro, thank you so much," he begins but Pietro beats him to it, waving his gratitude off with a small shrug.

 

"Don't mention it."

 

"No, I need to. It-"

 

"No, Steve, please don't mention it. It's already hard enough and I still need to talk to Bucky. Don't remind me of what I'm losing here, what I'm walking away from. I will not be able to do it, it's already very, very hard. I'll see you later, okay. I've got to go walk away from the love of my life." Pietro gives him a small smile and Steve can see the heartbreak in his eyes, can smell the utter devastation in his scent.

 

This is him breaking up with the love of his life for Steve. Pietro's walking away from the man he's loved, he loves, for Steve. Steve wonders once again if he could ever be this selfless where Bucky was concerned. If he knew that he could keep Bucky or let him go, would he ever let Bucky go?

 

The answer's no, he realises, as he lets Pietro walk away. He didn't stop him, didn't try to tell him, once again, that maybe he's wrong. Because, when it comes to Bucky, Steve will always be selfish and that's not something that scares him anymore.

 

He'll take care of his alpha if his alpha so wishes.

**

Notes:

Next Chapter: Pietro talks to Bucky.

This last part is based on something Chris said during the Civil War press tour. Wanting Bucky is Steve's selfishness (paraphrased. He's sounded much better).

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Chapter 30: Idiots in Love: Part 2

Summary:

Bucky realizes he's an idiot. Nobody is surprised.

Bucky hums to himself as he makes his way back from the kitchen; a jaunty tune that's been stuck in his head for a while. He smiles as he passes Steve's bedroom and considers calling out a cheery good night to the blonde. The clock ticking past midnight stops him, no use waking up the poor guy if he's sleeping: Bucky isn't that cruel. By the time he reaches his room, Pietro is also there. The blonde stands with his back to Bucky, facing their bed, and Bucky smiles to himself as he throws his arms around his boyfriend and kisses the back of his neck.

 

"Hey, baby, many, many happy returns of the day," he coos into the back of Pietro's neck and feels the blonde stiffen a little. He frowns to himself but before he can question it the blonde relaxes and grips Bucky's hands where they lie across his midriff. 

 

"Hey, Bucky. Thank you for the party. I had an amazing time." The blonde's voice is rough and tired and Bucky fights against his urge to turn Pietro around and see his face. But they have an understanding between themselves: if Pietro needs Bucky, he will come to him and till he does, all Bucky can do is hold on and let Pietro know he's there for him.

 

"Anything for you, sweetheart. I have a gift for you, you want to see it?"

 

"Of course. But I want to talk to you about something first." The blonde pulls at Bucky's arms and the brunet lets him go immediately. Pietro turns around, smiles, and all air leaves Bucky's lungs.

 

This is not the guy he left behind around half an hour back. This guy, with the red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, is not the birthday boy Bucky spent celebrating a few hours back. This guy who is still looking at Bucky with teary, watery eyes is not the man who blew out his candles in one try and smiled at Bucky smugly in return.

 

His heart throws a "screw it" at his head as he lunges forward and grabs Pietro's hands, begs him to look at Bucky.

 

"Piet, is everything okay? You've been awfully quiet this past couple of days, my love, is it about Wanda?" Pietro laughs as he asks that, a messy, watery chuckle that makes Bucky's heart hurt, before he shakes his head and motions towards the bed.

 

Bucky nods before complying but doesn't relinquish his hold on Pietro's hand as he sits, the beta on his right.

 

"It's not about that. I had to talk to you about Steve."

 

At the mention of the omega's name, Bucky's heart kicks into overdrive. He's already thinking of a thousand situations that would warrant a talk like that and each one makes something in his heart bend and break. He doesn't realize he's been squeezing Pietro's hand till the beta winces and draws his hand out of the alpha's.

 

Bucky apologizes but doesn't take the beta's hand again.  

 

"Steve? Is everything okay with him? You guys didn't get into a fight, did you?" he asks and wonders why that's what he's most worried about. Maybe it's the fact that if they do, he will be forced to pick sides. The alpha is not one to pick sides in a fight but something tells him he will have to in such a case.

 

And somehow the fact that he will have to take Pietro's doesn't sit right with him.

 

"No, not at all. I…you know I love you, right? I love you so much, Bucky." Pietro turns to him with blazing eyes and Bucky's rendered speechless for a while. Of course, he knows the beta loves him, has known for years now. He can smell it in Pietro's scent, can see it in his eyes.

 

"I love you too, Piet, you know that, sweetheart. What's wrong, Piet, why are you crying, my love?"

 

He hastily moves forward to wipe the beta's tears and wonders why they are having such a conversation. Pietro loves him, he loves Pietro. They both know this, everybody knows this. It's in the way they behave with each other, it's in their scent, in their eyes. It's in the way they go to sleep curled up around each other.

 

Why would Pietro ever question it?

 

"There's nothing wrong, Buck, you just don't love me." Pietro's voice is nothing above a whisper yet, the words fall hard and heavy around them.

 

For a second Bucky's brain screeches to a halt. The sentence plays in his head like a loop, a vicious cycle that cuts and makes him bleed. He stares at the blonde for a long time and when his brain finally regains some control, he jumps to his feet and runs his hand through his hair.

 

"What are you talking about, Pietro? Of course, I love you! Who else would I love? This is utterly absurd."

 

Even as he talks, he cannot help but picture where everything went wrong. There's no reason for Pietro to believe that Bucky doesn't love him. After everything they've been through, after everything they've been to each other, there's no way Pietro doubts Bucky's feelings for the blonde, the depth and complexity of them. He stares at the beta, wills him to say something, anything, as his scent plunges in and out of bemusement and incredulity.

 

"Don't get angry, Buck, just please listen to me. I know you think you love me and I know that even if you would've realized that you don't, you still wouldn't leave me. But I love you, Bucky, and sometimes loving a person means opening their eyes to the truth and letting them go even if it hurts me, kills me." He stands and puts a hand on Bucky's forearm and Bucky uses the arm to pull him closer. He puts his hands on Pietro's hips and holds him there as he pleads.

 

"I don't understand what you're talking about, Pietro. Stop talking in riddles and tell me what you're going on about."

 

Pietro doesn't say anything for a while but he doesn't meet Bucky's eyes either. He stands with his head down, staring at their feet, until Bucky finally makes an impatient noise.

 

"What's love to you, Buck? When you say you're in love, what do you mean? Is it butterflies in your stomach or is the comfort that comes with a well-worn sweater?" His eyes find Bucky's as he asks and Bucky fights every fibre of his being to not grit his teeth and growl.

 

"Pietro, for fuck's sake!"

 

"No, Bucky, for my sake just answer the question. Please, it's my birthday, humour me," he pleads and Bucky is helpless in the face of his boyfriend's request. He takes a deep breath, holds it in for a while before exhaling and looks right into Pietro's cerulean blue eyes.

 

"Okay. Love to me used to be butterflies in the stomach but as I have grown up, I've realized that love is not butterflies, it's an ever-glowing ember in our heart that never extinguishes. It burns bright and dull, but it's always there, all-consuming and all-encompassing." It isn't until he finishes that he realizes what utter bullshit he's spewed. He doesn't know where it comes from, but he can take a bet that it's from some stupid book Steve had him read at some point.

 

Pietro's not the only blonde whose eyes make Bucky do the stupidest things.

 

The realization makes his mouth go dry.

 

"Very poetic, but that's not what I meant and you know it. What tells you you're in love? How do you know?"

 

"Pietro…" he exhales sharply but the beta doesn't let go. He pleads with his eyes, his scent joining in, but it's the sight of red-rimmed blue eyes that does him in. "Love for me is when I am comfortable being vulnerable with someone when I know that no matter what happens, they'll find a way to make it better. Being in love with someone is about trusting them with everything in my life and my life. Being with them is not a chore, it's a pleasure. I want to cook them breakfast and listen to them talk about everything under the sun. It's about ribbing and teasing and knowing it's all in good fun. It's about late-night talks and Netflix binges. I don't expect my nightmares to go away but they would know how to bring me back, how to hold me and shake me back up. Tell me what's safe and where's home. Love should be easy, I protect them, they protect me, and we love each other."

 

As he speaks, images of their breakfast table, their couch, and his bed come to mind along with blue eyes and blonde hair. He smiles as he hears the sound of pancakes sizzling on the pan and Brooklyn 99.

 

Love for him is all this, and much more. Love is the sight of pink lips and pale skin.

 

"That's beautiful, Buck."

 

"I'm glad you think so because that's us, Pietro. We're in love and it's beautiful," Bucky pushes but Pietro doesn't budge. He stands his ground and shakes his head, doesn't let Bucky sway him. 

 

"Is that us, my love? Or are you confusing me with another blonde?"

 

And suddenly it hits Bucky. It is insecurity rearing its head again. Pietro is insecure about Steve's place in his house, in Bucky's life. Bucky knows Pietro wasn't fond of Steve at their first meeting but they have come a long way. He loves how easily they get along even if it's to tease him. He never knew this insecurity still lay dormant in Pietro. He should've seen it and he hadn't.

 

"Pietro, if this is about Steve, you know-"

 

"Please humour me for some more time, Bucky, please. Just answer my questions, please."

 

"Okay, okay. I can do that. What do you want to know, sweetheart?" He guides them till they're sitting again. Pietro pulls his left leg up on the bed to allow him to turn his body sideways and Bucky does the same with his right to allow them to sit face to face.

 

"You've got to be honest here, Buck, no matter what you think I want to hear. Swear on me, Buck, you will not lie to me."

 

He pulls Bucky's arm to his head and looks him right in the eye. Bucky doesn't know why he would ever need to lie to Pietro, why Pietro would think Bucky would, but he humours his boyfriend anyway. He places his hand on Pietro's head and nods solemnly.

 

"I promise. Ask me what you want to know."

 

"Who was the last person you were vulnerable with? Whom did you feel comfortable shedding a few tears with? Who was the last person you let in?"

 

Bucky's reflex is to say that it is Pietro, but a moment's pause to think tells him otherwise. The last time he cried and was vulnerable was with Steve when he had come clean about Hydra and his parents' death. He remembers the conversation like it happened yesterday but he cannot bring himself to admit it.

 

He sits there silently, a picture of shame and guilt, and it makes the already atrocious scents in the room worse. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of his own feelings and opens them only when Pietro nudges his arm.

 

"You promised me the truth, Bucky, nothing but the truth." He can hear the pleading in the beta's voice and the crack in his own as he replies.

 

"Steve. I let Steve in, showed him who I am, who I was. Hydra, the war, my arm. He knows because I told him." He expects Pietro to say something but the blonde merely nods. Bucky doesn't understand what's happening but he knows he doesn't like where this is going. He tries to stay calm but the longer Pietro's questions last, the longer he knows he's going to fret.

 

"Who makes everything better? The nights filled with nightmares, the tough mornings at the VA, who makes all this bearable and better?"

 

He cannot think of anybody for a moment before Steve's face flashes behind his eyes. Steve's face as he woke Bucky up from his nightmare, Steve's face as he held Bucky after a painful day at the VA, Steve's face as he held Bucky the night of the death anniversary. He thinks back upon every bad day he's had since the blonde arrived and how each one of those days was made better by Steve's presence, his smile, his scent. There is a reason the blonde reminds Bucky of home.

 

And it's not Pietro's fault. He's busy with college and his classes and he cannot be there for Bucky's bad days. Doesn't mean Bucky doesn't love him, he does.

 

"Steve. He's always there when I need him. He makes it better," he tells him quietly, his heart thundering. He expects Pietro to start shouting or throwing things at him but it doesn't come. Instead, Pietro takes a small breath and a hint of a smile grazes his face.

 

"Do you trust him with your life?" he asks, equally quiet and Bucky nods before he can think about it.

 

"Yes, of course, I do."

 

"For whom do you make breakfast in the morning and sit and listen as they rant about their latest project and Tony Stark?"

 

The previous images flash in his head. Images of their breakfast table, their couch, and his bed come to mind along with blue eyes and blonde hair. The sound of pancakes sizzling on the pan and Brooklyn 99. Loud laughter and raspy whining. A pale throat thrown-back in laughter and pink lips scowling at the thought of a new project.

 

The previous images flash in his head again but with a distinct difference. This time they're accompanied by the sight of a crooked nose and a thin face.

 

Steve's face at the breakfast table smiles at Bucky and Bucky closes his eyes in denial.

 

"Please, Pietro, please," he begs the beta not to make him say it, begs him to let go of this discussion. He was right when he thought he wouldn't like it, he doesn't, but he knows it's going to get worse.

 

He's going to learn things he never wanted to.

 

"Bucky…" it's not a reproach, but it is as close as it gets and Bucky relents with a weary sigh and a heavy heart.

 

"Steve, every morning. He's got something or the other to share."

 

"Is it a chore to listen to him, to take a walk with him, to make him breakfast?" There is nothing inquisitive in Pietro's eyes nor his voice because he doesn't want to know the answers to his questions. He already knows them, Bucky realizes, he just wants Bucky to know them.

 

He swallows his fight and answers as honestly as he can.

 

"No. No, it's my pleasure."

 

"And the punk whom you tease mercilessly just to have him retaliate?"

 

More images flash of stupid fights that have no heat in them and stupid nicknames that are tossed around only to tease. He thinks about Steve calling him an old man and he thinks about the time he called breakfast 'tater tots with tiny tots.' He thinks about lapping Steve in the park and he thinks about the time Steve made fun of his obsession with hair ties. They're not jabs meant to hurt, they're meant for bickering, for fun, for riling the other person up.

 

But he also has them with Pietro, just not so regularly because Pietro is a busy guy with a life outside Bucky.

 

Steve does too but they always find each other every evening without fail…

 

"Steve," he answers, resignation seeping into his voice.

 

"He knows how to pull you out of your nightmares, how to hold you in a manner that they don't come. He sleeps next to you when you need it, he holds you when you cry, he's there when you need him to be, and he tells you where home is. Nightmares don't come when he is there with you. Bucky…who's home to you?" He can feel the question like a knife to his side and he winces as he moves back from Pietro.

 

As he closes his eyes hard, he can see Steve lying beside him in the morning, their hands clasped between them. He can see Steve volunteering to sleep beside him every time he needs it to protect Bucky from nightmares. He can see Steve holding him in his arms, rocking them both as he cries. He can see both of them fall asleep on the couch and wake up tangled without a care in the world, with any awkwardness.

 

He knows Steve smells like home to him. He knows Steve is home to him.

 

It's never occurred to him to ask why. Why is Steve home when Pietro's is his boyfriend?

 

Maybe it has occurred to him, maybe he didn't want to question it. But now, there's no going back from it.

 

"Steve…fuck! Steve."

 

"You protected him from his father even though he didn't ask you too. You protected him from his own self-hate. You protected him from everything you could think of, including his own guilt and responsibilities surrounding his father's death. Bucky, you know what this is, you know what I'm trying to tell you here." Bucky doesn't say anything, he grits his teeth and keeps mum. "Whose heat sent you into a rut, Bucky?" The last question shatters any and all pretence in the room. The last of Bucky's defences fall and he crumbles to the ground on his knees.

 

The final nail in the coffin and the ultimate truth. Steve's heat sent Bucky into rut; a secret Bucky has kept from everybody in his life except Pietro. He hadn't known it till they had reached the dorm, hadn't known it till he had started sweating uncomfortably and Pietro's eyes had gone demure and soft. He remembers the guilt when he realized Steve had triggered his rut much earlier than it was supposed to come.

 

He hadn't meant for it to happen and it hadn't meant anything. He told himself that again and again but today he couldn't convince himself either.

 

"Pietro, I'm so sorry, I didn't…I didn't know, I never wanted to. I love you; I have for so long; I don't know what this is." It's the truth and he knows Pietro knows this too. He can see it in the way Pietro's eyes soften as he kneels beside Bucky and takes Bucky's hands in his own again.

 

"You do love me, Bucky, you've loved me a long time. But people fall out of love just as fast as they fall in love. And you do love me, but you're in love with Steve. And you don't have to apologize for that, I knew long before you did. I should be the one apologizing for I kept you even after I knew the fact. I'm sorry I was selfish, Bucky, I just couldn't let go." Tears fall from those beautiful eyes again and Bucky crawls forward to wipe them away. He shakes his head again and again as he finds his voice and hates it when he realizes how weary and fucked up it sounds.

 

"No, no! You did nothing wrong, sweetheart, I promise. You did what anybody else would've done, but what you did today? That's something exemplary. You're so selfless and beautiful, Pietro, I'm so goddamn proud of you. But I promise you, I didn't know, I didn't mean to. Fuck."

 

And he didn't. He never meant to fall in love with Steve Rogers, hadn't even realized he had. It's only as Pietro started asking did he realize. He's been so gone on Steve for so long. Everything he's done, every decision he's made in the last few months, it's all been for Steve. That's why he's been putting off the divorce, that's why he's been buying the best quality coffee, why he has stopped running. He thought he was carving a place for Steve in his house but he had carved a place for Steve in his heart instead.

 

"It would've been hard not to, he's just so good. Even after everything he's been through, he's so kind, loving, alive. It'd be really hard to resist Steve Rogers and you've always had a thing for blondes." Pietro chuckles softly as he says that and some part of Bucky's heart feels free at that. He chances a smile at the beta and he rubs Pietro's hand softly.

 

"That sounds fake but okay. But, Pietro, Steve doesn't return these feelings so we must keep quiet about this, okay? I don't want him to feel like he owes me something because he stays here."

 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Pietro snatches his hand away from Bucky. He pulls his hand back and smacks Bucky across his shoulder, his face angry and pinched.

 

"James Buchannan Barnes, if you don't think Steve Rogers isn't head over heels in love with you then you might have bigger problems here. He didn't have to leave his mother to stay here with you, didn't have to stay with you during your nightmare, didn't have to hold you as you told him about hydra, didn't have to accompany you everywhere you went. He didn't have to play omega for as long as he has considering Joseph died a while back, and he certainly did not have to sleep with your t-shirt for the entire duration of his heat. That boy has been crazy about you for so long, Buck. Don't make him wait any longer, it's cruel. Don't do that to him."

 

And suddenly it makes sense. All of it makes sense. Bucky had wondered why Steve hadn't left when Joseph died, had wondered why he hadn't left when Sarah did, had wondered why he bothered with Bucky. He had felt guilty every time he spilt something about his past or his present to Steve, had felt guilty about unloading on the poor omega about his issues, but Steve had never complained. Bucky had always wondered why, had always wondered if he was worth Steve's friendship, his time.

 

But knowing Steve, he would have done it for anyone, even someone he hardly knew.

 

And that makes Bucky's heart feel lighter, makes his cheeks hurt from a wide smile.

 

"He loves me? Holy shit! I love him and he loves me? Have we both been blind this whole time?" Pietro laughs at him as he says it and he knows Pietro is, in fact, laughing at him. So maybe he was blind, they both were, but it gave no cause for laughter.

 

Bucky felt a little hurt.

 

Bucky was a drama queen.

 

"I like to think you've both been idiots but you know, whatever floats your boat," Pietro replied as he started to calm down a little and Bucky's pout came back in full force. Pietro's smile disappeared as he watched Bucky and his smile gave way to a very solemn expression. He lifted a hand to cradle Bucky's face but dropped it before it touched the alpha. He scooted away as Bucky said his name and shook his head firmly.

 

Right. This was over. Everything they had built was finished. Bucky had gone and fallen in love with someone else while he was supposed to be in love with Pietro. And the reminder makes him fidget, close his eyes against his own betrayal. Bucky's not only sorry for what he did to Pietro, but he's also terrified of doing it to Steve. Nobody deserves what he did to Pietro and he doesn't know what he would do with himself if he did it to Steve also.

 

He doesn't know how he, an absolute fuck up, ever got lucky enough to win the love of the two most kind and beautiful people in the world.

 

But he knows he doesn't deserve it. And he needs to earn it.

 

As he looks back at Pietro, he still feels love but different love than what he feels for Steve. He wants to protect Pietro, wants to stand in the way of everything that threatens him, and wants to take care of him forever. But when he thinks of Steve, he doesn't just want to protect him, he feels ready to give his life for him. He's an alpha, his family is his honour and it makes sense for him to want to protect everybody but Steve? Steve's not just Bucky's family, Steve's his mate, or will be in the future, and wanting to protect Steve is not about his honour. It's about Bucky himself. Because if something happens to Steve, Bucky will not be able to live either. It's the curse of love, the co-dependency, the utter disregard for yourself and devotion for another, the pain that comes from the fear of losing.

 

Bucky cannot believe the pain Pietro must be under right now. And he needs to make sure that he never puts another person in the same position. He's not going to jump into a relationship with Steve immediately. He's gonna wait and see the extent and depth of his feelings and Steve's before he makes any decision.

 

"I…I need some time to make sense of all this. It's so overwhelming. Fuck!" he exclaims and Pietro nods his head in understanding.

 

"I can understand. Take all the time you need, darling, I'm here for you." He takes Bucky's hand in his and gives it a little rub and Bucky squeezes his hand in return.

 

"Thank you, Piet, thank you so much." His face crumbles and his eyes shoot open wide as he realises something he missed in his own musings and wonderings. "What happens to you now? I don't want you to be alone. You don't deserve that."

 

"I'm not alone, Buck, I'm a college-going kid with friends and a long life ahead of me to find my mate. And I also have a family looking out for me: my family with my big, muscular alpha, his scrawny, strong ass omega, the scariest red-headed alpha, and her mate: a lowkey disaster alpha with impeccable aim. I'm gonna be just fine." The blonde gives him a small heartfelt smile and Bucky's heart falls at the gesture.

 

Pietro didn't deserve this, didn't deserve any of it. If Bucky would have just stayed faithful, just known his own feelings…he takes the blonde's hands in his own and brings them to his lips.

 

"I'm always here for you, whenever you need, whatever you need," he promises and he knows he intends to keep it.

 

"One last kiss? Like a goodbye?" He sees the hesitation in Pietro's eyes and he's reminded of the first time they ever spoke about Steve and Bucky's relationship in this room. Pietro has grown up so much, he realises, different from the teenager who had just surged up and kissed him with no qualms just because he thought he was losing Bucky. Sitting in front of today is an older Pietro, asking permission to kiss Bucky one last time because he knows he's lost Bucky.

 

Bucky couldn't be prouder.

 

"Yeah. Of course," he whispers softly and leans forward as Pietro plants a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. The beta doesn't even try to kiss him on his lips, or deepen it and pull Bucky for another, just places a soft kiss and pulls back, a small smile on his face and tears streaming down his face.

 

"Thank you so much, Buck, I love you," he tells the alpha softly and Bucky's knee-jerk reaction is to say it back. Because he does love Pietro, loves him differently then he imagined first. He loves Pietro like family, loves him as a friend, his brother. It took him a while to understand, but he does now.

 

And he needs to tell Pietro this. 

 

"I-" however, the blonde doesn't let him. He puts a finger to Bucky's lips before he can say anything further and shakes his head. Bucky can see the plea in his eye, the unshed tears begging Bucky to let him go easy, to not rub salt on his wounds.

 

And Bucky obeys wordlessly, drops his gaze and close his mouth. Bows his head: an ultimate sign of surrender for an alpha.

 

"No, I'm not ready to hear you say it to me, whether platonic or not. It would hurt and everything already hurts so much. I just wanted to tell you one more thing before I leave."

 

"What is it, Pietro?" Bucky lifts his head as he looks at the blonde and the blonde gives him a small smile.

 

"Your scent: it changed a while back. Steve smells like home to you because he smells like you and him. Take a whiff, Bucky, and tell me I'm wrong." At his cheeky smile, Bucky takes a tentative sniff of the air. He can smell his own chocolate scent, Pietro's scent, and a whiff of vanilla in the air. He's never noticed it before but now it's impossible not to. It's too strong to be just from across the hall or from lingering scents on clothes and makes Bucky question how he was ever this stupid.

 

It also makes him panic for another reason.

 

"How? We didn't-"

 

"I know. Ask Steve about it, maybe he'll know. I've got to go now, cannot stay in this house forever." Pietro climbs to his feet and Bucky follows. He takes Pietro's hand in his own again and gives him a genuine, heartfelt smile.

 

"You're welcome to. It's your home too."

 

Pietro smiles at his effort and pulls him into a hug. They hug for a long time, Pietro reluctant to let go and Bucky in no hurry to force the heartbroken boy out of his house. He knows he should offer Pietro to stay the night but he knows Pietro's not going to stay. And from the lights blinking outside the window, Pietro already has a ride.

 

"You always will be, Bucky. But this home belongs to you guys now: The Rogers-Barnes residence. Best of luck, my love," the beta whispers in his ear and Bucky pretends not to notice the fresh tears that are streaming down his face as he pulls back. He nods at the blonde and wipes away a tear of his own. 

 

"Thank you, Pietro, thank you so much."

 

The blonde walks out of the room and Bucky's left standing there alone. He doesn't know what to do next, but he knows he needs time before saying anything to Steve. He cannot fuck up this relationship as he did with Pietro. Steve's his best friend and he cannot lose that over something like this.

 

He needs to make sure this is something he really, really wants.

 

**

 

Notes:

FUN FACT: My friends recently held an intervention for me because I too, like Bucky, did not realize I might like (like-like) a friend of mine. I was also called an idiot. I have also, much like Bucky, decided to ignore their words and my feelings.

P.S: Toss a comment to your writer, oh readers of story!!!

Chapter 31: Enemies to Husbands to Friends to Lovers

10th November 2020 

Steve smiles softly as Bucky continues with his story. Sam's getting his ass handed to him by his mother in a game of charades and Steve lives that imagery vicariously through his husband's enthusiastic hand gestures and uproarious laughter. He stares at the amusement that colours Bucky's eyes and the wicked fun that paints his lips red. He doesn't know when he stops laughing and nodding along to the story, choosing instead to admire Bucky's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun. 

 

The flimsy curtain in their kitchen does nothing to block the light of the golden hour and Bucky stands illuminated in it. Steve stares, mesmerized and enchanted, as the golden rays bounce and glimmer off of the alpha's sharp cheekbones and make his hair look chestnut. Bucky throws his head back in laughter and Steve's eyes find themselves reflecting the prominence of his collarbone. He drinks in the sight of Bucky's eye crinkles making an appearance and the cleft of his chin. 

 

"Steve?" the raspy voice draws Steve out of his captivation and he blushes in embarrassment at being caught. He didn't intend to stare, never does, but Bucky is beautiful and Steve is only human: an art appreciating artist on top of that. He shakes his head to Bucky's enquiry and turns away to continue stirring the sauce on the stove. 

 

Bucky's making his famous lasagne and Steve wants to help. It's not just an excuse to be close to Bucky as he skips around the kitchen, it's Steve wanting to genuinely be there. Bucky's amazing and being close to him is no chore, even as twilights get colder with the changing seasons and Steve's frail body fights against it. 

 

Bucky doesn't comment on Steve's staring and the omega finds himself struggling to decide whether he's thankful for it or if he hates it. Bucky's avoiding it again as he has been for the past week, and it's starting to grate on Steve's nerves now. He understands wanting some time, he understands wanting to pretend it isn't there, he understands the burden of acceptance. He understands that Bucky doesn't mean to hurt him when he ignores Steve's interest but convincing him that it is not his fault is getting to get harder. 

 

The elephant in the room is that now both Steve and Bucky know how the other feels for them. The issue is that Bucky seems happy to be ignoring it and continuing on with his life whereas, Steve is done pretending and moving along. 

 

Steve's pretended to not want Bucky for so long that he cannot do it anymore. Earlier it was easy because Bucky was unattainable, a fantasy, a fairy tale. Now Bucky is right there; within Steve's reach, a reality Steve could reach out and touch. 

 

And that makes it harder to pretend to not want to touch, to take, to have. 

 

And Steve wants…he wants Bucky so much. 

 

And Steve now knows that Bucky wants him too. He can see it in Bucky's eyes. He can feel it in the way Bucky's touches linger, can feel it when the hugs get longer and tighter. He can feel Bucky's gaze on him like a blanket, can feel the caress of his look move down his eyes to his lips and down his neck. He can feel Bucky's gaze reluctant to move away from him, can see Bucky himself struggle to do so. It's like a dam has broken and Bucky is struggling to hold back his affection. 

 

But above all, he can smell his scent on Bucky; the way Steve has marked him to be always his. He can smell Bucky on himself too and he goes to sleep surrounded by the knowledge that a piece of Bucky is always with him. 

 

But Bucky never acts on his feelings, he doesn't make a move, he doesn't say a word, and that's driving Steve crazy. Bucky hasn't even spoken about the breakup with Pietro or the conversation that he had with the beta. The only reason Steve knows about the conversation is from a phone call with Pietro or he would have assumed that nothing had changed between the beta and his alpha. 

 

Give him some time, Pietro had said. He'll come around; the beta had promised. 

 

Steve hadn't mentioned it, hadn't pushed, but there's only so long someone can wait…

 

"How's the sauce coming along?" the brunet stepped closer to take a whiff of the sauce and Steve's hit with the scent of chocolate and vanilla. It's always the hardest part: to not pull Bucky closer and scent him. To not bury his nose in Bucky's neck and see how much Steve can make him smell like himself. 

 

He settles instead on moving away a smidge and letting Bucky take his place at the stove. But the alpha doesn't. Bucky steps behind Steve and places his hand atop Steve's on the spoon. Steve can feel Bucky's chest behind him and he struggles not to move back and rest his head on the brunet's chest. 

 

Bucky lifts their intertwined hands and brings the sauce to his lips. He blows on the sauce to cool it and holds it out to Steve. Steve has to turn to slide the spoon between his lips and the movement makes his shoulder brush against Bucky's muscular chest. 

 

His heart thunders at the touch, at Bucky's proximity, at the intimacy of the whole act. 

 

He tastes the sauce and nods his head appreciatively prompting Bucky to chuckle softly. The action sends vibrations down Steve's back and he suppresses a shiver that has nothing to do with the chilly weather outside. Bucky pulls the spoon back to taste the sauce himself and his appreciative hum has a shudder run down Steve's entire body. He knows there is no way Bucky didn't feel it and he feels scorned when the brunet pulls away from him. 

 

Bucky doesn't stray far. He moves to stand beside Steve, their shoulders and arms touching. He starts humming a tune Steve doesn't recognise and starts pulling out the rest of the ingredients. Steve watches him out of the corner of his eyes, the way his body stretches and moves as he reaches for the stuff on the higher shelves. Steve averts his eyes as his metal arm glints light straight into Steve's eyes but not before he catches a glimpse of golden skin where Bucky's t-shirt rides up. 

 

He doesn't know how much longer he can do this; how much longer he can pretend to not be head over heels in love with Bucky. He doesn't know what prevents him from making the first move, why he's waiting for Bucky to take the first step. Steve's not a believer of the sexist notion that omegas aren't supposed to make the first move, he's not afraid to either, but something stops him. 

 

He knows Bucky loves him, even if he was sceptical when Pietro told him so. But the more he's been around Bucky in the past week, the surer he's been. He might've been blind to it earlier but now he's sure: Bucky Barnes returns Steve's affection and it's the best thing that's happened to Steve in almost a year. 

 

His father's words taunt him, his voice calls Steve a useless, pathetic omega, but Steve's no longer listening. When he's with Bucky, Steve's not an omega, he's just Steve and that's all he's wanted to be from the start. Bucky's brought out a side to him he didn't know existed and Steve's floating away on the clouds of that discovery. 

 

Bucky loves him without Steve having to be a dutiful, beautiful omega and that should be enough. 

 

Except it isn't. Steve wants Bucky to tell him so. He wants Bucky to make the first move because he wants to know that Bucky wants him. Steve wants Bucky to want him in every way and he wants Bucky to show Steve that. He's never been somebody's everything and for once he wants to feel that way. 

 

He wants to be wanted and asked out. He wants to be loved and feel loved. He wants Bucky and he wants Bucky to want him. 

 

He's pulled out of his reverie by the sound of Joey Batey's voice. He lifts his head to raise an inquisitive eyebrow at Bucky and is answered by a soft laugh and an elegant shrug. 

 

"It's catchy," the brunet offers as an explanation and Steve wholeheartedly agrees. The song's been stuck in both their heads since they watched the Netflix show and though Steve knows that listening to it again will not help purge it from their heads, he still sings along to it under his breath. 

 

After a while, Bucky joins in on the fun and they make a duet out of it. They're no match for Joey's vocals but their enthusiasm is unmatched. They belt out the lyrics at the top of their voice and once Bucky starts moving his feet along to the beat, all bets are off. 

 

Their kitchen floor becomes an impromptu dance floor as Steve "Two-left feet" Rogers and Bucky "Is good at Everything" Barnes move along to the song. They dance out of tune, they dance in any which way they want, they dance with their elbows and their forearms, they dance as they roar in laughter, swaying and falling towards the other, moving closer like the pull of magnets. 

 

They dance till the song finishes and come to a slow halt as it ends. There's barely any distance between them and Steve rakes his mind to understand when they got so close. He is close enough to smell the lingering effects of Bucky's aftershave and it makes his breath catch painfully in his throat. From the looks of it, Bucky is in no better state. Steve can see his pupils dilate, can smell the alpha's self-control stretch thin as his hands twitch at his sides. 

 

The song changes to Ed Sheeran's perfect and Steve closes his eyes tight. He waits for Bucky to pull back like he has been doing for the past week but the alpha doesn't do so. He steps closer to Steve and waits. Steve can feel Bucky's eyes travel down his features, can feel their weight asking him to open his eyes. He can taste the change in the air around them, the anticipation and intrigue building.

 

He opens his eyes and comes face to face with Bucky's grey eyes. 

 

It's too close to see Bucky without seeing double but it doesn't make it any less electric. 

 

"Dance with me, Stevie. Please." 

 

And who is Steve to deny Bucky anything? He places his right hand in Bucky's left and lets the alpha pull him closer. Bucky's right-hand curls around his waist as he steps closer till all Steve can smell is Bucky, till all he knows is Bucky; as the world outside their little bubble ceases to exist. He moves along with the alpha and cannot help the way his hand closes tighter around Bucky's broad shoulders. 

 

Slowly, Steve removes his hand from Bucky's and interlocks his hands behind Bucky's neck. The movement lets Bucky wrap both arms around him and lift him till he's standing atop Bucky's toes. The alpha noses along Steve's jaw, an act that has Steve suppressing a very needy whine, and murmurs his name in his deep, husky voice leaving Steve powerless. He opens his eyes to look at Bucky and sees the brunet already staring back. 

 

The song ends behind them but they don't move. Steve's gasp breaks the silence as Bucky's gaze falls on his lips. The brunet's eyes catch his own at the sound but he doesn't relent; he licks his own lips slow and deliberately till Steve's breaths start coming in pants. 

 

It's torture to watch Bucky's tongue dance along his lips from such a negligible distance and Steve feels the brunet's presence deep in his bones. Held in Bucky's arms with his scent in his nose, eyes in his sight, and hands-on his body, Steve forgets everything. 

 

He leans in and kisses Bucky. 

 

Notes:

Did you like it? I think I deserve a lot of comments for this chapter, right?

Chapter 32: Be Mine, But Don't Make Me Ask

Notes:

Roll credits!!!!!!!!!!!

The world stops spinning as Steve's lips meet Bucky's. Bucky doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move as Steve's hands leave his shoulders and come up to cup his face. He doesn’t dare move a muscle, in fear that a single move will push Steve far away from Bucky.

 

As Steve's lips move against his, Bucky revels in Steve's touch, in the kiss, in an action that he knows he’ll miss as soon as it’s gone.

 

He doesn’t want to part; doesn’t want to stop, but he cannot do this to Steve. He cannot lead him on.

 

“Steve…” it’s a puff of air into the minimal space between them and Steve does not acknowledge it. He moves back in to kiss Bucky again, his chest flush against Bucky's and his lithe hips secure in Bucky's hands. Bucky's takes a deep breath, the sweet vanilla scent of Steve in his nostrils, and pulls himself away from Steve.

 

He doesn’t go far; he can’t. Not when Steve looks ethereal in the afterglow of their kiss: lips swollen and cheeks flushed. His chest rises and falls heavily as he breathes in deeply and Bucky's mesmerised by the beauty of the omega to notice his own throat closing up on him.

 

When Steve opens his eyes and Bucky gets a look at his dilated pupils, all air leaves his lungs and lust runs hot through his veins.

 

It is, however, soon replaced by dread as Steve’s hand tucks his hair behind his ear.

 

“Steve…” it’s a request, a plea for Steve to leave before Bucky breaks his heart. The sight of Steve: blonde and blue-eyed, brings back memories of Pietro crying and leaving because of Bucky.

 

Bucky broke Pietro’s heart and he cannot bear to do the same to Steve.

 

Steve sees the panic in his eyes; can smell the panic in his scent because his eyes widen in dread and he takes a step away from Bucky. The smile that was beginning to take residence on his lips falls away and a hand comes up to cover them.

 

“Buck, I'm so sorry. I-I-” The rise and fall of his chest, now, have nothing to do with the breathlessness of passion but the fear of overstepping. Bucky watches with an aching heart as Steve increases the distance between them, shaking his head to himself and fighting tears of fear.

 

“Steve-” Bucky begs for the blonde to stay, to listen but he shakes his head no.

 

Steve retreats to a corner of the kitchen and turns his back on Bucky. He drops his head between his chest and takes a minute to get his breathing under control. Bucky sub-consciously counts the breaths with him and curls his fingers into his palms at the realisation that he cannot help.

 

Steve's hurting and Bucky did it to him. Bucky had done the very thing he had been afraid of doing.

 

“I don’t know why I did that. I should have never, I'm so sorry.” Steve's voice barely carries across their kitchen yet it settles heavily in Bucky's gut. Steve shouldn’t be apologising, if anyone should be pleading for forgiveness, it should be Bucky. He takes a step towards the omega but Steve turns around and puts a hand out. “Please, Bucky.” He shakes his head and begs Bucky to stay. Bucky drops his eyes to the ground and obeys.

 

“You don’t know why you did that?” he asks in a small voice, his desire to know outweighing any sane thoughts that scream he shouldn’t ask. He knows he doesn’t deserve to know that, not after pushing Steve away, but a selfish part of him goes forward with it anyway.

 

He hates that part; the part that cannot let Steve go, the part that selfishly holds on.

 

“I-I am sorry, it won’t happen again.”

 

“That’s-” Bucky stops himself, fights the instinct to raise his voice by curling his nails into his palms. The pain is a good reminder about who’s hurting who here. “I didn’t ask for an apology, Stevie.” He voice is low because the words are stubborn. He tries to meet the blonde’s eyes but Steve keeps his trained on the ground.

 

As Bucky's words reach him, he lifts his eyes to Bucky’s for a brief second. Pain swirls in the baby blues and any hint of lust and playfulness in them is long gone.

 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and takes in laboured breaths. Bucky can see the fight going on in the omega’s head and every instinct in him screams at him to help Steve. But he stands there, watching as Steve shrinks in on himself with every breath.

 

“Bucky…I- no. I cannot do it.” His shoulders slump as he turns away and his desperate grip on the kitchen counter turns his knuckles white.

 

“Please, Stevie, please.” Bucky doesn’t know what he is begging for anymore but he is. He wants Steve to turn around, to come close, and tell him. But tell him what, he doesn’t know.

 

All he knows is that Steve is hurting and that is not okay. Every time Steve hurts, Bucky makes him talk and the pain goes away. He wants this pain to go away. He wants Steve to stop hurting.  

 

“You know how I feel, Buck. I know you do.” -he raises a fist and scrubs at his face, rubs the tears that come away glistening on Steve's fist- “Why are you making me say it? Why are you”- he takes a shaky breath and exhales on a shudder- “don’t ask me to be that vulnerable; don’t ask so much of me.”

 

Steve's request makes the back of Bucky’s neck burn with shame. He lowers his eyes to the ground and closes his eyes against the sight of Steve's vulnerable silhouette. He berates himself for his cruelty and takes an insignificant step back to increase the space Steve has already put between them. 

 

“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry,” he apologises heartfeltly and turns away to check on the sauce on the stove. In a bid to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied, he starts on the rest of the dish. He checks to see if the water’s boiling and puts in the noodles to cook. He forgets to put in oil to prevent the lasagne noodles from sticking to each other and mumbles a curse to himself.  

 

This is not how it was supposed to go; none of this is the way it’s supposed to go.

 

It was supposed to be a simple dinner. None of it is now.

 

“Do you love me, Buck?” Steve's voice cuts through the tension between them and lodges like a knife in Bucky's heart. He feels lightheaded as the question registers and the world seems to stop altogether as he drops his spoon into the boiling water with a muted voice. The water sloshes a little but Bucky's too busy staring at his own reflecting in the pot to pay any attention to it.

 

His eyes are open wide and his mouth hangs open. He looks afraid of his own reflection.

 

He wants to turn around to see Steve's face, wants to see what emotions are fliting though his face as he awaits Bucky's reaction. But he can’t because he's a coward. He runs his flesh arm through his hair and sighs as his reflection stares back at him disapprovingly.  

 

“Please don’t do this to me. Show me the same mercy I showed you,” he begs pathetically and the omega sighs in defeat. Bucky waits for Steve to say something more, to push, but the blonde does neither. He leaves Bucky to face his own cowardly reflection in the pot.

 

Bucky doesn’t know if the heavy feeling in his chest is disappointment or shame.

 

Bucky waits a few more seconds for the other shoe to drop but Steve seems to have had enough too. Bucky shakes his head to himself and retrieves the spoon from the pot. The noodles are far from done and Bucky finds himself with nothing to do and million thoughts in his head.

 

“I love you, Buck, I love you so much and have done so for so long.” Steve's voice is so quiet, it’s hardly audible above the sound of the boiling water. Bucky whips around to stare at him and finds Steve already looking back. The omega wraps his arms around himself as he catches Bucky's gaze but meets his gaze steadily.

 

“I don’t know why I said your love makes me vulnerable, it doesn’t. It only makes me stronger, inexplicably so. I've been stronger ever since I met you, Buck, not to say I was ever weak”- he smiles softly at Bucky and the brunet powerlessly returns the gesture - “but you give me support and I've learned to draw courage from that. You make me something more than just an omega.” He lowers his eyes as he finishes and Bucky sees his arms tighten around himself. Steve rubs his hands down his arms and Bucky hates himself for putting Steve in so much distress.

 

He takes a step towards the omega and stares helplessly.

 

“You don’t have to do this for me, Stevie. Please, you don’t have to make yourself vulnerable at my behest,” he begs but Steve just smiles at him; soft and fond, as he steps forward, an arm outstretched towards Bucky.  

 

“Oh, Bucky, how have you not realised yet that there are very few things I wouldn’t do for you? I love you, Buck, and I mean every word of it. You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to love me back either, but you deserve to know this; you deserve to know I'm always going to be there for you.” Bucky takes the outstretched hand in his and holds it reverently. He doesn’t deserve Steve and he knows that because no mere mortal does. Steve is otherworldly; in beauty and conduct, and Bucky refuses to believe any human is worthy of such a divine being.

 

And that man- that angel- loves Bucky; pathetic, cowardly Bucky who is afraid and pitiable. Bucky who holds Steve's hand but is afraid to hold his heart. Bucky who could never deserve him; not even after a century of penance.

 

“I-I don’t know, Stevie. I don’t know how I feel anymore,” he confesses and Steve takes a step closer to him. The omega covers Bucky's hand with both of his and rubs the skin softy as he looks at Bucky; infinite patience and adoration in his eyes.

 

“What do you mean, Buck? Talk to me, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

 

“I”- he bows his head till his forehead rests on their intertwined hand. It’s an apology, a plea, and a surrender. An alpha is baring the back of his neck to an omega and he knows Steve understands the significance of the gesture when the blonde draws in a sharp breath. “I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt you, Stevie, like the way I hurt Pietro. I'm afraid I'm gonna make promises of love and togetherness to you and wake up tomorrow with the realisation that those feelings were not true. I cannot do that to you. I cannot break your heart, Steve- I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did. You deserve better than that; better than me.” He stays there for a moment longer, waiting for his eyes to dry, before pressing a lingering kiss to Steve's knuckles and straightening up.

 

He expects to see understanding in Steve's eyes, acquiescence in his posture, and goodbye on his lips. He finds none.

 

He finds adoration in Steve's eyes, openness in his posture, and a smile on his lips.

 

“You wanna know what I'm hearing, Buck?” he asks quietly and Bucky's nodding before his confused brain can catch up with the gesture.

 

“I'm hearing love,” Steve tells him simply. “This is what love is, sweetheart. Love is caring about someone so deeply and passionately that you want to protect them from everything: even yourself. You’ve been protecting me from the day I walked in here as your husband, Bucky, maybe now you should let me do the same for you. Let me protect you, Buck, let me love you.”

 

Bucky feels his eyes burn at Steve's words and the moisture threatens to escape them. He understands what Steve is telling him, it’s what Pietro had said too, but his fears keep him prisoner. He cannot be responsible for breaking Steve's heart the way he did to Pietro.

 

He still sees Pietro's tear-streaked face when he sleeps, if he has to see Steve's he may never sleep.

 

“Stevie…what if I hurt you? How will I live with myself if I do that; how will I ever forgive myself?” It’s a struggle within to keep from pulling Steve into his arms and soothing the distressed scent he's throwing off. Bucky knows he loves Steve, can feel it deep in his bones, but he still hesitates. “What ifs” and “buts” plague him even as Steve smiles sadly at him.

 

“You would never hurt me, Buck; you couldn’t. Wanna know how I know?” he asks softly as he steps infinitely closer to Bucky. They’re standing merely a foot apart and Bucky can smell Steve even more now: vanilla with some underlying chocolate. Steve and Bucky.

 

Images of their kiss flash before Bucky and he closes his eyes against their assault.

 

“Because you won’t let yourself hurt me. Because the alpha in you won’t let anybody, including you, hurt his omega. I'm not one for enforcing gender norms, Buck, you know that”- a disbelieving chuckle leaves Bucky's mouth before he can stop it and Steve joins in- “but my alpha will protect me.” Steve steps forward till no distance is left between them and bares his scent gland to Bucky. This close, Bucky's senses are hit in full force by Steve's scent and he growls before he can stop himself.

 

Steve smells tantalising; like himself and his alpha, and Bucky pulls him in. He loses the fight with himself and embraces Steve. He buries his nose in the blonde’s scent gland and breathes in deeply.

 

He smells like Bucky, like everything good and blessed in this world and it makes Bucky's eyes water. How could he ever deserve this man? His love? His devotion?

 

“My omega…” it’s a question because Bucky's still not sure. He knows he wants Steve, loves Steve, but he’s still afraid. Steve may be confident but Bucky is not. This is asking for permission, asking for trust.

 

And Steve's only too happy to give it.

 

“Yours, Buck, yours,” he purrs and Bucky starts crying softly. He hides his tears in the crook of Steve's neck and holds the blonde close to himself. He feels Steve shake minutely before his hands come down to rub Bucky's shoulders gently. 

 

“I love you, Stevie, I love you so much. I love you; I love you; I love you,” he chants like a prayer and a relieved chuckle escapes Steve. He buries his head in Bucky's shoulder and tightens the fingers grasping Bucky's back.

 

“I love you too, Buck.”

 

At those words, Bucky pulls back and takes Steve's face in his hands. He smoothens his calloused fingers across Steve's tear-streaked cheekbones and takes in his unparalleled beauty. Steve watches him with a small smile and love in his eyes.

 

“I love you so much it scares me. I'm elated and excited but I'm still so scared, Stevie, I cannot screw this up; can’t lose you, I love you.” He brings their foreheads together and breathes the words into Steve's mouth. Steve pulls himself in and places a chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips before pulling away and looking Bucky in the eyes.

 

“You won’t lose me, Bucky, I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what you want, sweetheart, tell me how can I help.”

 

“Can you wait for me? I love you, Stevie, and I'm all yours, but can we wait before we…” he trails off not knowing how to phrase his request but Steve has no such qualms.

 

“Mate?”

 

“Yeah. I don’t want you to regret this later, Stevie. I love you but I don’t trust myself yet.” Because if Bucky's leaves Steve after he's put his mark on the omega, then Bucky not only destroys Steve's heart but also his life. If Steve decides this is not something he wants or if Bucky's fears are founded, then Steve still has a life ahead of him. Bucky won’t be taking everything from him.

 

He knows going in with one foot out the door is bad but it’s the best he can do to ensure Steve's happiness, his safety in the long run. 

 

“I trust you. And I accept your boundaries. Is kissing okay?” the question brings a smile to Bucky's face because, for all of Bucky's fears and pessimistic talk, Steve is still full of adoration and love. He's looking at Bucky likes he's the one who is divine, angelic and not the other way around.

 

Bucky pulls Steve in for a kiss, long and sweet, that leaves them both smiling dazed at the other. Steve's cheeks turn crimson the longer Bucky stares at him and it’s only an excuse to bring him in for another kiss.

 

He parts Steve's lips with his own and dips in sweetly to taste the blonde. Steve whines at the touch of Bucky's tongue to his lips and opens a little wider to let Bucky in fully. Bucky doesn’t hesitate but he does take his sweet time mapping Steve's lips before dipping in and tasting the sauce from earlier. He chases the taste off Steve's tongue and coaxes it to dance with his own. He swallows Steve's moans and drowns his growls in Steve's sweetness.

 

On Steve's lips he tastes love, he tastes adoration, he tastes trust. It’s intoxicating and liberating and Bucky finds himself unable to move away. He kisses the blonde once, twice, thrice, before he loses count and just holds the blonde close; unwilling but not afraid to let go.

 

When Steve smiles at him again, Bucky has to pull him back for another kiss.

 

Another one in the long list of many more to come.

 

When they part, they don’t stray far. They keep close and breathe in the other with glossy eyes and red-kissed lips; gummy smiles on their face.

 

“Yeah, it’s very okay. Could we cuddle too?” Bucky asks breathlessly and Steve throws himself back into Bucky's arms in answer.

 

“Yes, all the time. You're gonna have to physically tear me away from you now.” The alpha laughs at that and tightens his hold on the blonde’s body. As he breathes in the scent of Steve and their combined happiness in the kitchen, his doubts about his own feeling diminish a little.

 

The longer he holds Steve, the more the pieces of his confused heart start falling together. He never knew love could feel like this; so all-consuming and burning, and it makes him hold Steve tighter.

 

Holding Pietro never felt like this: it didn’t come with a fear of losing him nor with the fierce knowledge that he would burn down the world for him.

 

(Bucky's had Steve for barely a minute and a half but if something happens to him, Bucky would kill everybody on the planet and then himself.)

 

“Wouldn’t dream of doing that. Thank you for waiting for me, Stevie, I love you so much.” He kisses the words into Steve's golden hair and Steve turns to head to meet Bucky’s eyes.

 

“I am ready to wait for things that matter to me, Buck, and you matter to me, sweetheart; you matter the most. I love you so much; I'm with you till the end of the line, Buck.”

 

And something just clicks when Steve says that. If this is what love is, then Steve might not have to wait long because Bucky is already deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

Notes:

Three chapters to go. Two chapters of smut, because we've earned it, and then a little epilogue to seal it all in. Next station, smut train! Choo, choo, bitches, here we come!

Chapter 33: Love Me Like You Do, Touch Me Like You Do

Summary:

The boys consummate their love 😏

Notes:

Thinking about writing smut: erotic, hot, lustful.
Writing smut: finding 10 synonyms for penis, not wanting to use the word squirt, not knowing what to replace the word asshole with.

 

A very special thank you to two absolutely kind and sweet people who helped me with this chapter and put up with my whiny ass. YetAnotherRavenclaw and leviosakrs you both are the best!!! Thank you so much for helping me with some really funny suggestions and midnight support. A thousand kisses to you both 😘😘😘

Steve pulls his pants up and frowns at their size. He’s had them altered but they still sit loosely on his frame and were causing his mood to sour. He pulls at the waistband and watches as they still fall down and sit past the band of his boxers. Sighing to himself, he picks up his shirt and pulls the sleeves over his arms. The shirt’s not any better but he knows he can cover it up with his well-fitted suit jacket. 

 

Steve’s excited despite, his wardrobe malfunctions. Tony’s getting married and Steve is ecstatic for his friend. He was initially surprised Tony had not splurged on an exotic, destination wedding, but the love-drunk Tony he had met a few months back had surely not struck as the type to want a splashy wedding. That Tony had seemed ready to elope to Las Vegas to get married sooner. Except, instead of a chapel in Las Vegas he had decided his own huge mansion worked fine.

 

He’s smiling at the thought of Tony being married off by an Elvis impersonator when two arms hug him from behind and a chin comes down to nuzzle his shoulders. He smiles at the scent of happy, content alpha and catches Bucky’s eye in the mirror.

 

“Buck, what are you doing?” he can’t keep the fondness out of his eyes as he looks at his husband-turned-boyfriend. Bucky turns his head to press a kiss to Steve's jaw making the blonde sigh in pleasure.

 

“Nothing. Just enjoying the sight of my sweetheart in some well-fitted pants.” The alpha smiles innocently at him and slides his thumb into the waist of Steve's pants. His thumb teases at the waistband of Steve’s boxers and - despite the way his mouth runs dry at the gesture- Steve swats his hand away.

 

“Quit it, we’re gonna be late.” And they can’t afford to be. It is Tony’s rehearsal dinner and Steve has to be there as his friend and groomsman. As much as he would rather stay here and see how much further Bucky's hand will go, he has obligations and responsibilities as Tony’s friend.

 

“We’ve got time. Let me enjoy the show, Stevie,” the brunet husks in Steve's ears and Steve's self-control crumbles a little. He lets himself relax into Bucky's hold and turns his head to press a flurry of kisses to Bucky's forehead and cheeks. 

 

“Fine. You can help me with my shirt.”

 

“I would love to.” Bucky nods and gently moves Steve's hands away from the buttons. He smiles as he catches Steve's eyes in the mirror and Steve’s helpless but to stare back at him.

 

Sometimes he can’t believe he gets to have this; that he gets this gorgeous, kind, selfless alpha all to himself. They have come a long way from their first interaction in the café and Steve couldn’t be prouder of them. Bucky is no longer the bitter veteran he had seen that day- lamenting the loss of what he believed civilian life would offer- and Steve is no longer the helpless omega stuck in a life he didn’t want.

 

His mom’s happy and healthy in a flat she was paying for by herself, his father is dead and will never bother him again, his friend is getting married, and he is safe and content in the arms of his alpha.

 

If somebody would’ve told Steve this is where he was going to be in less than a year, he would’ve laughed at them. Now, he's just eternally grateful for all the spiritual forces who made this possible.

 

Steve's brought out of his musing by a chaste kiss to his collarbone. He slowly leaves his thoughts behind to see his shirt unbuttoned all the way and Bucky's smug smile pressing into his throat. 

 

“You were supposed to button it, Buck,” there's no heat in his voice as he admonishes the alpha. Bucky plants his chin on Steve's shoulder as he meets his eyes in the mirror and shrugs casually.

 

“You weren’t clear with your instructions.” He smiles wickedly. Steve opens his mouth to retort but all words leave the blonde as Bucky's hands smooth down Steve's bare chest and come to rest of his stomach.

 

The alpha takes in the omega’s dilating pupils and open mouth and slowly brings his left hand up to brush against his nipple. Steve bites his bottom lip hard to keep from whimpering and Bucky wordlessly brings the other hand up to pull Steve's lip away from his teeth.

 

“Let me hear you, Stevie,” the brunet rasps in Steve's ears and the command pulls a broken moan from the omega's mouth.

 

Bucky smiles at their image in the mirror and brings his right arm down to cup Steve's throat lightly. He thumbs at the blonde’s jawline and gently tilts it to the side. He flicks his tongue at Steve's scent gland till he whimpers, before pressing a chaste kiss to the gland and letting go of Steve's jaw.

 

Steve watches his arms move back down slowly till they curl around Steve's waist and keep him in place.

 

“Buck,” he begins but his voice breaks in a gasp when Bucky’s cold metal fingers pinch his nipples playfully, “not fair, Buck.”

 

“Do you want me to stop, Stevie?” he asks softly as his lips close over Steve's scent gland and suck. Steve's legs buckle but Bucky's strong grip on his waist stop him from falling. The omega lolls his head to the side- gives the brunet access to his neck- and whimpers softly.

 

“Buck,”- he turns his head to press kisses along Bucky's face- “please.”

 

“Do you want me to stop, Stevie?” the deep voice in his ears purrs and Steve shakes his head violently.

 

“No.” -he turns around and throws his arms around Bucky. He buries his hands in Bucky's hair and pulls him in for a kiss- “Don t you dare stop, Barnes. Don’t stop.”

 

“I got you, sweetheart. I got you.” Bucky whispers in between toe-curling kisses. Kissing Bucky is like a drug Steve can’t get enough of. He understands that it is their honeymoon phase but he’s sure the pleasure that pools in his gut every time Bucky's lips meet his has nothing to do with the novelty of their relationship. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with the sinful way Bucky coerces Steve's tongue to dance with his or the way a growl seems to claw out of Bucky's throat every time Steve whines.

 

The kiss is mind-blowing because it was Bucky he is kissing.

 

The brunet pulls back as they come up for air and Steve feels his heart race. It pounds in his chest and Steve can only hope it doesn’t give out at the sight of Bucky: all kiss bitten red lips and mused hair.

 

The brunet is a vision in his navy-blue suit with his pupils blown wide and eyes wild.

 

“Love you, Stevie, love you so much,” he whispers into Steve's parted lips as he steals another kiss. The blonde moans as the brunet licks away his answering confession and replaces it with his lips.

 

“Love you too, Buck,” he replies as soon as the kiss breaks and Bucky leans down to kiss his collarbones. “Oh, fuck!” He arches into Bucky's mouth and almost sobs as the brunet peppers his pale skin with kisses and declarations of love.

 

“So beautiful like this; look at you, Stevie, look like a wet dream, angel.”

 

“Buck…” He feels beautiful even as he moans wantonly. Even without seeing, he knows his pale skin has a pink flush to it, his pupils have swallowed the blues of his iris, and his scent smells sweeter than it ever has as slick begins to wet his hole.

 

“Gotta see the way you look, Stevie, gonna drive a man insane” -he turns Steve around to face the mirror and wraps his arms around Steve's waist- “Let me show you how much I love you, Stevie, please.”

 

Steve looks at himself- like Bucky suggests- and feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight. He has never considered himself beautiful or desirable but standing in Bucky's arms, he looks extraordinary. Bucky's metal arm on his waist is artistically framed by his open shirt while the other hand lies in a beautiful contrast: tan and strong against the paleness and softness of Steve's stomach.

 

His neck and collar bones are littered in small red marks that Steve’s itching to touch- just to make sure they are real- and his nipples have pebbled and darkened under Bucky's attention. His chest rises and falls lasciviously as he catches his breath and his heart threatens to jump out of his chest and lie at Bucky's feet.

 

And his face… it is flushed red to the tips of his ears and his pupils have swallowed the blues of his eyes. When he manages to pull his gaze away from his swollen lips, he is struck by the overall image the two of them make.

 

Bucky's broad back dwarves Steve's lithe figure and he looms over him; his dark blue suit provides a stunning contrast to Steve’s utterly debauched state. Bucky stands tall- fully clothed- in comparison to Steve's state of undress and it makes Steve's heart race with lust; his arousal is fuelled by the sight of his own vulnerability and Bucky's strength and control.

 

It’s only when he finally manages to pull his gaze back from the two of them that he realises the latter part of what Bucky said.

 

“Buck, you sure? You said-” he turns in Bucky's arms and takes a step back. He doesn’t want the aroused scents in the air to confuse Bucky; doesn’t want the sight of Steve in undress to push Bucky to do anything he isn’t ready for. Bucky asked Steve for time and he is ready to give it to him; even if Steve’s body demands otherwise.

 

But as it turns out, Bucky doesn’t share any of Steve's concerns. He erases the distance between them with a step and pulls Steve back into his arms, one arm around his waist and the other cupping Steve's jaw.

 

“I know what I said, Stevie and I love you. I love you so much. I knew I loved you even then and the only thing that’s changed now is I've realised how much I love you.”

 

Steve's heart soars at his words and he feels relief course through his body. He throws his arms around Bucky's neck and lets his head fall on Bucky's chest. Bucky's hand falls from his jaw to his waist and Steve has never felt safer in his life as he does in the confines of Bucky's arms and scent.

 

He had been afraid Bucky would change his mind; would see Steve for the poor substitute he was to any other omega Bucky could fall in love with. One very dark night, Steve had believed that Bucky did not love him; that he was merely mistaken because of Pietro’s words and a fear of loneliness. That night had seemed longer than ever until Bucky's hands found his on the sheets and he was pulled back into a strong body and cocooned in the warmth of his alpha and their scents. The night hadn’t stood a chance. The darkness disappeared in Bucky's light and Steve slept knowing he was loved.

 

But this confirmation-in words, the insistent press of a bulge along Steve's hips, and the heady smell of his alpha’s arousal around him- is good too; magnificent, Steve would say, if he was capable of higher vocabulary at the moment.

 

“How much do you love me?” he asks after a charged silence descends on them, the need to know burning in the back of his subconscious. He didn’t know the question was on the tip of his tongue until after it leaves his mouth. He holds his breath as he waits for Bucky to answer, not knowing what to expect and wondering if he's destroyed their moment.  

 

When Bucky doesn’t answer even after a while, Steve opens his eyes. Bucky's eyes are trained on his face and he has a sultry smile playing on his lips. Steve's mouth falls open as Bucky leans in. The blonde follows his actions with his eyes. The brunet leans in and kisses the shell of his ear.

 

“Let me show you?” Bucky asks in his ear and Steve almost whimpers as the warmth of the words caresses his sensitive ears. He turns to look at Bucky and seals their lips in a kiss that leaves no doubt as to how much Steve wants that.

 

“Yeah, please,” he begs as they part and Bucky takes a moment to brush Steve's hair from his forehead. He smiles at Steve- something fiercely adoring and loving in his gaze- and brushes a small kiss to the tip of Steve's nose.

 

“You only have to ask, Stevie, I’d lay the world at your feet,” he promises in a voice so quiet Steve isn’t sure he was supposed to hear the tail end of the sentence. He stands there with Bucky- their foreheads touching and panting into the other’s mouth- just enjoying the proximity of the other.

 

Steve knows where they are heading, that this is the calm before the storm, and he can’t wait for it. He is already intoxicated on the redolence of their aroused scents together; he is hooked to the way Bucky's scent turns spicy while Steve's turns sweeter.

 

He knows he will be lost the moment Bucky touches him, lost to the way Bucky feels around him, on him, in him, but there is one last thing he needs to tell Bucky.

 

“Buck, can you please take it slow? It’s my first time.” He doesn’t realise how tense he's feeling about his revelation until Bucky kisses the tip of his nose and gives him a dazzling smile. The alpha pulls him closer until nothing has stands between them: secrets, fears, and distance.

 

“Of course, angel. I'm gonna take care of you, okay? But you have to let me know if anything doesn’t feel good or hurts, okay? I don’t want you to feel bad about telling me that, okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Steve smiles at Bucky's concern and gets a smile in return. He stands still as Bucky’s smile turns sultry in nature and his breath catches in his throat as Bucky's hands move to the lapels of his suit. Bucky ducks his head and looks up at Steve from beneath his lashes as his smile turns coy and he lets the jacket fall to the ground.

 

Bucky's far from naked- a white shirt still hugs the lines and curves of his torso but Steve's mouth runs dry and his heart pounds. He feels the rush of slick between his cheeks and the tightening of his trousers. He bites his lips as Bucky does the same and watches the slow, teasing movement of Bucky's fingers across his shirt. He wants to push Bucky's fingers away and use his own but he's pinned to his spot by Bucky's gaze.

 

They're standing close enough that every movement of Bucky's fingers across his buttons caresses Steve's body. He shivers as the fingers descend down from the collar to the sternum and across Bucky’s chest, the movement causing Bucky's fingers to brush Steve's nose, lips, and bare torso.

 

He watches enraptured as Bucky's white shirt flutters to the floor and his tan body is laid bare for Steve's hungry eyes to devour. Bucky doesn’t say anything as Steve stares to his fill but a moan escapes his mouth when Steve's fingers start exploring.

 

He presses them first to the scarring on Bucky's left shoulder. He half-expects Bucky to shy away from the touch or to push him away but the brunet does neither. He stays still as Steve explores the damaged tissue- his eyes unmoving and trained on Steve's face- while Steve’s eyes follow the motion of his fingers. He moves his fingers down the shoulder to the metal arm almost wanting to take a minute and draw the way the metal plates seem to quiver under his touch. Bucky's body is set in stone as he watches Steve, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only decipherable movement.

 

Steve's other hand traces the ripped contours of Bucky's stomach. Steve knew Bucky had to be sculpted- between the craze for running every morning and eating healthy- but he had no idea Bucky was an American equivalent to a Greek god. The omega whines at the sight of his alpha’s musculature and revels in the throbbing it causes in his nether region.

 

The whining seems to draw Bucky out of his stupor and his metal arm clams down on Steve's waist. Steve moans at the touch of cold metal to his heated body and pushes himself against Bucky; captures his lips with his own. As Steve kisses Bucky, the alpha’s arms come up to grab the open plackets of his shirt. The brunet pulls back to look at Steve- his eyes questioning- and Steve answers wordlessly by pushing the shirt off his shoulders and letting it pull at their feet.

 

Bucky's gasp resounds loudly in their bedroom and Steve flushes and preens at his alpha’s appreciative gaze. Bucky ducks his head and kisses Steve's neck, drags his tongue down Steve's Adam’s apple and across his collarbones. Steve tilts his head back at Bucky's administrations and moans unabashedly when Bucky begins sucking bruises onto the base of his neck. He tilts his head to the side to allow Bucky to do the same to the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

 

When Bucky’s happy with the mess he has made of Steve's neck, he tilts Steve’s neck to the other side and descends on his scent mark- right where Steve's bond mark would go. He doesn’t bite- Steve notices in his haze- but he presses a litany of kisses to it. He bites once- not deep enough to mark Steve- but it’s enough to make Steve's knees weak and soak his underwear.

 

“Buck, need you,” he begs the alpha and is immediately greeted by a look of absolute hunger on the alpha’s face. Bucky's nose flares for a moment- the scent of omega arousal and slick clogs the air with its sweetness- and his eyes light up at the smell. He brushes another kiss to Steve's scent gland, pauses to suck gently, before straightening up and placing his hands on Steve's shoulders. 

 

“Turn around for me, Stevie, let me show you how beautiful you are.” Steve nods and Bucky turns him around, his gaze immediately finding Bucky's in the mirror. He leans back into the alpha’s embrace as he begins mouthing along Steve's shoulders and running his hands down the flanks of Steve's torso. Steve sighs in pleasure till Bucky's hands find his nipple.

 

Steve’s never had anyone else touch him like this so, he has no idea how he would react to nipple stimulation. He remembers his earlier reaction to Bucky's teasing and shudders pleasantly at the thought of it. He has heard of how good it feels for some omegas, but they were female and Steve was not.

 

All his thoughts fly out of his head when Bucky presses the pads of his thumbs to Steve's nipples. His back arches against Bucky's chest and he makes a loud keening sound. Bucky smiles at him in the mirror and this time pinches his right nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. Steve sobs at the pleasure that courses through his body at the action. He whimpers when Bucky let go and shouts when he does it to both nipples at the same time.

 

He grabs Bucky's hands as they move farther down and puts them back on his chest. He pushes his chest into Bucky's hands and is rewarded by two thumbs gently rubbing circles around his swollen nubs. He sighs, moans, and whines at the pleasure building in his gut and almost finds it hard to believe the way he was slicking from just this.

 

He is ready for his alpha to take him and knot him: all from nothing but a hand on his chest.

 

Steve couldn’t wait to see what would happen of Bucky touched him there.  

 

As if reading his mind, Bucky's kisses started travelling south. First, it’s his shoulder blades, then, the knobs of his spine. He doesn’t recognise the sounds he starts making as Bucky reaches the waistband of his pants and waits for his permission.

 

For a second, nothing else exists in the world: just Steve, Bucky, and the huge step that lingers in front of them. Steve won’t say this was a stepping off point- wouldn’t even say it was impossible to come back from this- because it’s Bucky and he knows Bucky will stop any time Steve asks him to do so. But he still waits for the thundering in his heart to calm down a little, for his breathing to stabilise.

 

He looks at Bucky and all doubt leaves him. Strong, big, mighty alpha Bucky kneels behind Steve, blue-swallowed-by-black eyes looking up at Steve in question, and he decides immediately. He wants this with Bucky, hasn’t wanted this with anyone but Bucky since he stepped foot in this house as Bucky's husband. He smiles at his alpha and undoes the button and fly that were barely holding up the pants.

 

They fall and pool at Steve's feet.

 

Before he can step out of them, Bucky's lips touch the back of his knees and make their way up slowly. He licks and bites at the sensitive skin of Steve's inner thigh and presses a smile into them when Steve whines impatiently and tugs his underwear off him.

 

He looks at Bucky's reflection again and pleads with his eyes, says everything he cannot say out loud, and Bucky acquiesces with a smile. Despite being on his knees, Bucky's in power.

 

An alpha in power should scare Steve or at least irk him but it doesn’t. Because when Bucky looks up at him again, vulnerability and fear in his eyes, Steve realises that they both are powerless before the other; before this fragile, tender relationship they’re afraid to lose.

 

At that moment, they are not an alpha or omega, they are merely Steve and Bucky.

 

When Bucky's sure fingers part Steve's cheeks he feels a wave of embarrassment overcome him. He fidgets slightly but Bucky's hands don’t let him move more than a sway. He bites his lips as Bucky pauses and almost screams as Bucky's lips dart down to lick his entrance.

 

At the taste of Steve on his tongue, Bucky growls loud. Steve's eyes flutter shut as the alpha dives in between his cheeks and laps his tongue against his entrance again and again. Steve feels more slick pouring out of him at the alpha’s enthusiasm and it makes him flush pink down to his navel. He throws his hands back and grips Bucky's hair in his fist and it only makes the alpha moan louder and start lapping at the slick that’s spread between Steve's thighs.

 

The omega’s legs quiver as the alpha kneels between them and Steve's not sure if having the visual in the mirror is a boon or a bane. He can see Bucky- perfectly framed between his legs- eat him out in the mirror and it makes him almost scream his pleasure to the world. He whimpers as Bucky’s bites a mark onto his inner thigh and sobs in relief as the alpha makes his way back to Steve's cheeks. Bucky's large hands cup and grope them before spreading them open and licking broad stripes over Steve's entrance, coating his entire backside in his own slick.

 

He doesn’t pause, licks until Steve feels himself loosen up at the action- both his entrance and himself. He sighs as Bucky’s insistent becomes slow and relaxed but is wholly unprepared for the moment Bucky's tongue breaches him. He clenches down on Bucky's tongue and grips his hair tightly. Bucky's says something to him but Steve's too busy sobbing in pleasure to make sense of his words. He presses Bucky’s face closer to himself and makes a broken sound when Bucky presses his lips to Steve's rim and sucks- his tongue thrusting in and out of Steve's hole.

 

Steve loses the sense of time as pleasure courses through every fibre of his being. He thrusts back into Bucky's face and together they set their own languid pace. Bucky's stubble scratches across the most sensitive parts of Steve's body but Steve can’t bring himself to care. He shivers in pleasure thinking about all the bruises and marks he's going to bear tomorrow- marks that scream he is the alpha’s.

 

When Bucky's finger breaches him, Steve doesn’t even feel it. He's been fucked lose by Bucky's tongue and the finger enters him smoothly. He sighs as the second knuckle passes his rim and he feels Bucky's finger in him. Bucky pulls it back a little and thrusts again, this time nailing Steve's prostate. Steve screams as his nerve endings light up.

 

He pulls away from Bucky, slides to his knees in front of the alpha, and puts his arms around Bucky's neck. He pulls the alpha close and buries his head in Bucky's neck.

 

“In bed, Buck, take me to bed,” he pleads softly but the alpha doesn’t respond immediately. He rubs Steve's back thoughtfully and pulls the omega back to look into his eyes.

 

“Is everything okay? Stevie, what’s wrong?” Steve sees the concern abate some of the earlier lust and arousal from Bucky's eyes. He cups the alpha’s face and presses a thorough kiss to his lips; tasting himself on Bucky's lips and suppressing a wanton sound at the taste of them together.

 

“Feels so good, Buck, I've never felt so good.”- He presses forward for another kiss; then another to Bucky's forehead, his nose, his lips again- “Can’t stand anymore, sweetheart, my knees are shaking.”

 

It’s like watching a sunrise as a smile takes over Bucky's face and pride replaces the concern in his eyes. Steve's heard of the alpha ego. The way alphas pride on being good in bed; it’s a reputation thing, he's heard. He sees the same confidence in Bucky's eyes but there's a certain bashfulness to it- a sweetness- as his cheeks bloom with colour. It brings an involuntary smile to Steve's face.

 

“Love you; love you so much, my angel.” Bucky stands up and pulls Steve up with him. However, before the blonde can take a single step towards the bed, Bucky scoops him up in his arms and grins at the grunt (squeak) that Steve makes.

 

He assures Steve with his eyes and Steve holds on.

 

He trusts- of course- he trusts Bucky.

 

He loves him and for Steve love can only come from a place of trust.

 

“Buck, need you. Please. Please,” he begs as Bucky lays him down and the alpha smiles at him. He kisses Steve and pauses to suck again on his scent gland before making his way down between Steve's legs.

 

He looks up at the blonde and presses a kiss to the tip of Steve's dick. Steve breathes in sharply and Bucky's soothing voice comes from below.

 

“I got you, baby. Breathe for me, Stevie, breathe baby.” Steve nods imperceptibly and Bucky places a series of small kisses to Steve length. He intercepts the kisses with kitten licks and pauses occasionally to mouth along Steve's balls. When Steve makes an impatient sound, he sucks the head of Steve's cock into his mouth. He tongues at the head and uses his fingers to comb through Steve's treasure trail.

 

Steve grips the sheets in his hands but Bucky unclenches his fingers and guides them to his hair. Steve holds on to Bucky for dear life as the alpha seemingly tries to such Steve's brains out through his dick.

 

Bucky runs his finger through the omega’s slick and uses it to lube it up. He breaches Steve gently and uses his tongue on Steve's cock to distract him from any pain. Steve, however, doesn’t feel any pain. Between the copious amounts of slick he’s producing and Bucky's tongue loosening him up, Steve hardly feels the press of the finger. He pushes Bucky down to take him fully into his mouth and clenches down on the finger inside him.

 

At Steve's clenching, Bucky pulls the finger out and starts thrusting at a languid pace. He crooks his finger to find Steve's prostate and smiles around Steve's cock as he finds it unerringly and Steve's back flies off the bed. Steve glares at him- the gesture half-hearted at best and coming off as fond- and the alpha winks at him. He pulls out the finger and goes back in with two: pushing and pulling them to stretch Steve for his dick.

 

Steve moves with the rhythm Bucky sets- moving up to thrust into his mouth and moving down to feel the heavenly press of Bucky's fingers on his spot. The pleasure that threatens to overcome Steve is too much and Steve feels tears building in his eyes.

 

Refusing to cry or finish soon, Steve pulls at Bucky’s hair till the alpha lets go of his cock and moves up to kiss Steve again.

 

“Fuck me, Bucky, don’t make me wait any longer”- before the alpha can object Steve puts his finger to Bucky's lips and shushes him- “I'm ready, Buck. You don’t have to treat me like I'm made of glass; I can take an alpha. His cock too, if that’s what I want.”

 

“Never had any doubts, angel, I was just being selfish. I want you in so many ways- all ways- that I couldn’t decide. I'm ready if you are, sweetheart.” He twists his fingers as he pulls them out of Steve and the knuckles rub deliciously on the rim. Steve whines high and wanton at the loss but Bucky is immediately there to soothe his displeasure.

 

Bucky kisses Steve while he reaches into the bedside-drawer and pulls out a condom. He leaves the condom beside Steve's legs and raises on his knees to pop the button of his trousers and pull down the fly. Steve watches, transfixed, on the huge bulge hidden away by the crotch of the trousers.

 

He knows alphas have bigger cocks compared to betas and omegas, but he is still unprepared for the long, thick, and girthy wood that bobs out of Bucky's boxers. He licks his lips at the sight- a nervous flutter in his belly- as Bucky shuffles to the edge of the bed to kick off his trousers and boxers and comes to kneels between Steve's legs again.

 

The omega is faced with his own lustful dilemma of wanting to both taste Bucky and to have him wreck Steve in the best possible way. He doesn’t notice Bucky's amused face as he tears open the condom and rolls it down on his length while Steve busy staring at the alpha’s dick.

 

Steve follows the motion of Bucky's hand greedily as it moves up and down his cock. He chances a glance at Bucky's face and finds the alpha staring at him, cocky grin in place. Steve flushes brightly at being caught but finds himself unable to look away. Bucky groans as he flicks his thumb to massage under the head of his dick and Steve whimpers in answer. He rises on his elbows and bats Bucky's hands away before taking over and stroking experimentally. Bucky's face contorts beautifully at the pleasure and Steve's omega preens at the pleasure it’s giving its alpha.

 

But Steve's patience runs thin after a couple of strokes and he whines pleadingly at his alpha. Bucky smiles at him and guides him to lay back down and mirrors his movement till he's settled between Steve's lasciviously spread legs. He looks at the blonde as he guides his dick between his legs and waits for his go-ahead.

 

When Steve pulls him in for a sharp kiss Bucky pushes in.

 

Steve makes- what he can only call as- a pornographic sound as the head of the penis enters him. He takes a deep breath and struggles to keep his eyes open as Bucky pushes in all the way. It feels heavenly, despite, the initial stretch and burn, and Steve revels in the way Bucky seems to be struggling to keep in his composure.

 

“You okay?” Bucky asks after he's balls deep in Steve. He seems to be barely holding on to his control but Steve doesn’t want him to. The blonde digs the heels of his feet into the alpha’s ass and nods once.

 

“Move.”

 

And Bucky does. The first thrust has Steve seeing stars behind his eyes. He feels his eyes gloss over the longer Bucky moves and his senses dial down to Bucky and nothing else. He closes his eyes shut and holds on to his reality with nothing but the sensation of Bucky hitting his prostate every thrust and the music of Bucky's grunts in his ears. He knows he's moaning, whimpering, and whining shamelessly but he cannot be bothered to think about anything but Bucky, pleasure, and his impending orgasm.

 

Bucky’s whispering in his ears: sweet nothings and a litany of praises- each going straight to Steve’s dick. He rocks back onto Bucky's thrusts but after a while, he can only sit back and enjoy as the alpha’s pace picks up.

 

“Look so beautiful like, Stevie, just like an angel.”

 

“You're all mine, Stevie, like I'm yours. Love you so much, sweetheart.”

 

“Wanna do this with you forever, Stevie.”

 

“I cannot believe I get to have this. Fuck.”

 

“So good, Stevie, feel so good.”

 

Bucky gets his hands under Steve's shoulders and lifts the blonde up onto his forearms. He cradles the back of Steve's neck in his palms and bends down to mouth at Steve's scent glands- sucking, kissing, and licking but never biting. Steve can taste the words on his tongue- a plea for something- but his brain is too fuzzy with pleasure for the words to make it out. He lets the alpha rock his world as climax builds in his gut and travels all the way down to his groin.

 

He doesn’t know what he's saying but Bucky's words ring clear in his ear.

 

“Come for me, Stevie; come, sweetheart.”

 

And he does. He seizes up around Bucky's cock and comes with a long drawn out moan. His cock paints the minimal space around them white while his hole spurts slick to help the knot. Bucky curses at the wet heat around him and he goes to pull out before his knot catches. Steve grabs at him before he can and shakes his head violently.

 

“No, don’t pull out.” He knows it almost looks pathetic but he's not gonna let Bucky back out without knotting him. It’s his first time and he wants it: wants to be tied together with Bucky for the indefinite future.

 

“You want me to knot you?”

 

“Yeah, want you to bite me too, Buck.” Bucky's face goes through so many things at the same time that Steve doesn’t catch much except fond, love, and mine. He smiles as Bucky ducks his chin and rests it on Steve's sternum- giving his nipple a small kiss.

 

“I’ll knot you, sweetheart, but the bite will have to wait till your heat. It’ll hurt less and it’ll feel good,” he explains and Steve almost wants to pout and say no. But he trusts Bucky and if Bucky wants to wait, he can too. He is not scared of Bucky running away anymore, because he knows Bucky would not do that to anybody- much less to the man he confessed his love for.

 

“Okay. Knot me, alpha, and come in me.” Bucky's eyes fall shut at the words and he picks up his pace. Steve clutches his biceps as he feels the knot growing and catching briefly on his rim again and again with each of Bucky's thrusts. He whines at the delicious tugging and pulling and almost misses the moment Bucky takes one of his nipples in his mouth. 

 

He screams at the dual sensation and starts alternating his thrusts to move up into Bucky's mouth and down on to his knot. Finally, a very powerful thrust later, the knot catches and the alpha comes with a deep groan. At the feeling of the knot sitting on his prostrate Steve comes again- his body hardly spending much. Bucky almost collapses onto Steve before putting his weight on his elbows and resting his chin on Steve's sternum.

 

The room is quiet for some time as the men catch their breath. They stare at each other as they pant- dopey smiles on their face and beaming eyes- until Steve finally breaks the silence.

 

“That was amazing,” he practically screams even though, his voice is wrecked. Bucky chuckles softly and his voice reverberates through Steve.

 

“Yes, it was.”

 

Steve smiles at his husband and puts his arms around his back. He nuzzles into Bucky's hair and lets his hands wander down Bucky's muscular back and to his ass. He resists the urge to grope the alpha’s ass but he can’t contain the need to caress it.

 

“Steve…” comes the questioning tone from his chest and Steve chuckles into Bucky's hair. He stops the petting but doesn’t take his hands away from the butt.

 

“When can we do it again?” he asks and Bucky raises his head to look at him, a mischievous smile curling his lips.

 

“Should’ve known you’d be an insatiable little thing.”

 

“Is that bad?”

 

“It’s another gift, Steve,” he confesses- all playfulness gone from his face- replaced by love and tenderness, “You're a gift that keeps on giving, angel, I don’t know how I got so lucky. I'm so lucky to have you and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”

 

“I'm the lucky one, Buck, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me my whole life. How can I ever be enough for you?”

 

Bucky smiles softly, disbelief in his eyes and negation on his lips, but Steve doesn’t let him complete. He puts a finger to Bucky's lips and shakes his head. Bucky gives his finger a kiss and takes the hand in his own.

 

“You are already more than enough. I love you, Stevie, love you so much.” He intertwines their hands together and bends down to give Steve a kiss.

 

“Love you too, Buck,” he whispers back and Bucky smiles like Steve had just given him the whole world. He puts their intertwined hands next to Steve's head on the pillow and lays his head down on Steve's chest again. Steve raises his other hand to run his fingers through Bucky's hair when a thought crosses his mind.

 

“So,” he begins, lips curling into a sly smile, “I am the gift that keeps on giving but not coming; I wonder if I like this deal.”

 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky's head snaps up again- this time sporting a similar sly grin. He grins at Steve for a second before flipping them suddenly till Steve's sat in his lap, the knot in his ass suddenly deeper than it had been before.

 

Before Steve can catch his breath from the sudden change in position and the heights of pleasure that come with it, Bucky puts his hands on his hips and gives him a wicked smirk.

 

“Come on my knot, sweet omega, show your alpha how good you can be.”

 

Steve smirks back and clenches down on the knot. After all, who in their right mind would say no?

 

**

 

Tony is not displeased they miss the rehearsal dinner, instead, he takes absolute pleasure in tormenting Steve by pointing out the bruises and marks that litter his neck and making innuendo-laden jokes. Steve can’t bring himself to care with the way Bucky's smiling at him and the promise he made to Steve before they left their home.

 

“Starting tonight, we’ll christen every surface, nook, and cranny of our home, sweetheart. I promise.”

 

And Steve can’t wait for it.

 

 

 

Notes:

So, how was that? Should I even attempt the next chapter or are you guys regretting ever asking for smut? 😅😅

 

ANNOUNCEMENT: There are only two chapters left in this fic so, I will be moving on to other projects. Most of them are be one-shots and one is a multi-chapter fic (royalty au). If you would like to read them and would like to be notified when I upload them just leave me your tumblr username below in the comments and I will tag you.

Thank you for reading, hope you all are safe and healthy 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Chapter 34: Life is Great When You are Home

Summary:

Steve and Bucky being grossly in love even during their mating cycle.

Steve can’t help the whine when Bucky pushes into him. His hands fist the pillow and his toes curl. Bucky plants his elbows on the bed beside Steve's head and his strong thighs bracket Steve's own. He is caged in by his alpha and it makes the omega sob in pleasure.

 

The restlessness that usually comes with his heat subsides as his alpha starts to move and Steve can’t help the languid moans that he makes. He's on his front on their bed- Bucky insisted he not present given his bad back- while the brunet is the one who does all the work. The alpha pulls back and thrusts in slow; letting Steve feel every inch as he bottoms out and the pleasure curls deep in Steve's gut.

 

He's already orgasmed twice from Bucky's mouth on his dick and his fingers in his ass but it is still not enough; never will be as long as he can smell the heady musk of his alpha in rut and the combined smell of their arousal in their nest.

 

Bucky slowly picks up the pace with each thrust and soon he’s nailing Steve's prostrate with each push and pull. The head of his cock rams into Steve's sweet spot with just enough abandon that Steve's kept on his toes and he loves the way the rut is making his alpha lose composure. He keens as a particularly hard thrust has him coming again and he clenches deliciously around the alpha.

 

“One more, Stevie, then I’ll knot you and bite you, darling. One more for me, Stevie,” the alpha murmurs into his ears and despite, the exhaustion and the way his eyelids are drooping, Steve nods. He lets Bucky set the pace and soon the alpha is fucking into Steve fast and hard. The omega is sure he’s going to carry bruises on his ass from where Bucky's hipbones meet the pale skin and the thought makes him whimper in pleasure: a mark only for them to see.

 

Bucky stops moving for a second and Steve immediately whines high. The alpha pulls out and drops himself beside Steve and pulls him into his arms. He grips Steve's thigh in his metal arm and pushes it up and out. His other hand comes to curl around the blonde’s shoulders and he pushes in slowly. The new angle makes Bucky seem bigger than normal and Steve sobs as his body stretches and stretches to accommodate the alpha. When he's bottomed out, Bucky lets Steve's thighs go but grips his hips and sets a steady pace.

 

Steve grips Bucky's arm across his chest and tilts his head back to lie upon Bucky's shoulder. The brunet noses around Steve's neck and bites a couple of marks across the blonde’s shoulders. He sucks Steve's scent gland into his mouth but doesn’t break the skin. The omega pushes himself into that wet heat but Bucky refuses to bite down. The alpha’s hands pet across his chest before they find a nipple and a single tug to the hardened buds has Steve coming again.

 

The omega shouts as he comes dry and the alpha seizes up behind him. Bucky’s knot catches Steve's rim as the omega clenches tightly around him and through the orgasm, Bucky seals his mouth over Steve's scent gland and bites.

 

Steve can feel Bucky's teeth break the skin and smell the blood in the air. His body is pulled taut and he screams. Pleasure spills hard and fast into his body and Steve sobs with it. Bucky holds him close as their bond takes hold, builds, and binds them both. It’s a promise of forever and Bucky puts it on Steve's body for the world to see. The mates will always smell like a beautiful blend of them both; no other scent will ever come close to being so tantalising and sweet.

 

They emotionally bonded long back- unaware and without meaning to- but this is a thought-out decision. It is Bucky pledging himself to Steve and Steve doing the same to Bucky. It is love and commitment and it is forever.

 

The pleasure from the bite and the stretch of his body around Bucky's knot hits Steve like a freight train. He comes again and his body ripples and thrashes as pleasure overcomes him. He moans at the scent of their combined scents in the air and Bucky growls in return. The alpha can’t stop running his tongue over Steve's mating bond and the omega can’t help the whimpers that leave him.

 

Bucky's rolls them, until Steve is lying over Bucky's chest, and pulls himself up against the headboard. The move pulls at the knot in Steve's body and he whines high and loud. Bucky shushes him softly and settles Steve in his lap with gentle hands. He takes a wet wipe from the bedside table and wipes down the omega’s spend before wrapping his arms around Steve and nuzzling into his neck.

 

Steve sighs contently as their aroused scents make way for their joined scent. Sitting in his alpha’s lap in their little nest makes a pleased whine rise in Steve's throat and he doesn’t hold it back.

 

Bucky chuckles behind him and places a gentle kiss on Steve's shoulder.

 

“Are you already ready to go again, doll? Insatiable,” he murmurs fondly and Steve turns his head to look at him. He sticks out his tongue at Bucky's teasing and the brunet retorts by leaning forward and placing a small kiss to it. Steve blushes at the action- despite, everything they had just been up to in the bedroom- and it makes Bucky chuckle again.

 

“We’ll eat while we wait for the knot to go down and then take a shower followed by a nap. Sound good?” he asks and Steve nods. He knows he needs to talk but it seems like too much effort and he is happy and sleepy in his alpha’s lap and in no mood to talk and do things. Bucky doesn’t mind at all; the brunet places a small kiss to Steve's forehead and leans across their bed.

 

There are nuts, dried fruits, and chocolates in their bedside drawer and Bucky pulls them out. He opens the packet of cashews first and pulls out a few. He feeds them to Steve until the blonde starts making a face at them. He smiles at Steve's antics and switches them up for some dried fruit while giving Steve a few sips of water between bites.

 

Steve can’t believe this is his life now. He is laid out in his alpha’s lap, pleasure- drunk and fucked out, while his alpha hand feeds him and takes care of him. Steve feels his eyes tear up as the enormity of the love he feels for Bucky hits him out of nowhere and he buries his head in Bucky's neck.

 

“Sweetheart, you okay? Stevie, talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” Bucky asks softly and Steve can’t help the small noise he makes. He tucks himself closer to his mate and breathes in their combines scent greedily.

 

“I love you, Buck; I love you so much. I just…” he stammers off unable to complete the sentence but Bucky seems to understand. The alpha presses a kiss to Steve's hair and wraps his arms tightly around the omega.

 

“God, you have no idea how much I love you, Stevie. I love you so much that it makes my heart hurt. You make everything better: all the pain and nightmares, you drive them away. I don't care what life threw at me because at the end of it, this is where I will end up: right beside you, and I will gladly take it over anything else. I will take any hardship as long as I get to be here with you. You're part of my family; you're my love and my entire heart. You're it for me Stevie, my now and my future forever." Steve can hear the soft sniffles his alpha is burying in his head but he still smiles. He turns his head as much as he can and pulls Bucky into a deep kiss.

 

The angle is wrong and pulls at the knot but Steve doesn’t care. He kisses Bucky with everything he has and Bucky gives it back just as good. Steve moans into Bucky's mouth and the brunet steals the noise with his tongue; giving chase when Steve pulls away and not pulling away even as the need for air becomes overwhelming.

 

"You're it for me too, Buck, don’t want to live without you. You are my happiness, my love, and, my home. You're home to me Bucky; wherever you are is home," Steve confesses and Bucky chuckles wetly.

 

“So sappy; I can’t believe I married someone so sappy.”

 

“Fucker,” Steve laughs as he smacks Bucky's chest, “you're the sappy one! Who is the one who called me his entire heart?”

 

“You are, Stevie, couldn’t lie about it if I tried,” Bucky tells him sincerely and Steve hides in his neck to fight back his tears. Bucky's hums softly and wraps his metal arm tightly around Steve.

 

He opens a packet of chocolates and feeds Steve small bites of it. Steve smiles at the sweet taste on his tongue and Bucky can’t help but give him a few butterfly kisses.

 

Yeah, Steve thinks, he’s finally home and life is great.

 

Later, Bucky's knot will go down and they will go to take a shower. Bucky will kneel behind Steve in the shower and lick away his spend from between Steve's legs and his hole. He’ll put his mouth on Steve's sensitive hole and eat him out messily. When he's done, he’ll pull Steve back against him and wash him. He’ll clean Steve lovingly with his hands and soap and he will kiss Steve's bond mark again and again. He’ll give himself a perfunctory cleaning and wrap Steve in a big, soft towel.

 

They’ll dry off, get into bed, and curl up close. Bucky will wrap his hands around Steve's lithe form and Steve will rest his head right over Bucky's heart. Bucky will place a soft kiss to Steve's hair and whisper “I love you.” Steve will place an equally soft kiss to Bucky's chest and whisper “I love you” back. They’ll go to sleep with twin smiles on their face and wake up with wider smiles.

 

They’ll kiss each other good morning and start their day together. Bucky will bring Steve to a mind-blowing orgasm to take the edge of their heat/rut and they’ll spend the rest of the morning taking turns giving each other pleasure.  

 

Yeah, Steve will think then, life is great when you're finally home.

 

Notes:

I will upload the next chapter some time today itself and this story will reach its end! Kinda wanna cry, kinda wanna laugh!

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Chapter 35: And They Lived Happily Ever After

Notes:

It's the last chapter!!

The night’s winding down around them and the DJ has slowly transitioned into the slow songs. Couples are out swaying in each other’s arms while the happy couple goes around thanking everybody for coming.

 

Bucky holds Steve close as the music plays and tilts his head to bury his nose in Steve's gold-spun hair. Steve's nose is tucked right into Bucky's scent gland and the proximity of his mate is driving Bucky insane. He never wants to let his omega out of his arms and the thought of letting Steve go makes him tighten his hold on the omega's hips. The blonde immediately notices the change- of course, he does; he’s always been able to read the alpha like an open book- and lifts his head from the brunet’s shoulders.

 

Creases of concern appear between his eyebrows and a silent question raises in his eyes. Bucky smiles at his beautiful husband and bends down to smooth the crease with his lips.

 

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart, better than the bride herself,” he whispers softly into Steve's skin and the omega snorts at the compliment even as he sways closer to the warmth of his alpha.

 

“Don’t let Natasha hear you say that, Buck, she’ll have your balls right here at her wedding,” Steve whispers back softly and Bucky chuckles at the graphic imagery. He raises his head and catches Natasha’s eyes across the room and smiles at her. She smiles back and loops her arms around Clint’s as she drags him to the dance floor.

 

From the crappy warehouse Pierce and his goons called an adoption centre to here, a lot has changed for the two of them. Bucky's seen Natasha grow in front of his eyes, just like she has seen him mature far earlier than his age. They’ve seen each other at their worst and still stuck together. He remembers the first few days at Hydra when Natasha took him under her wing; he remembers their escape; he remembers the way she had looked at him when he had suggested joining the army to help their financial state; he remembers the tears in her eyes when Bucky came back an arm light.

 

It is one of the only times Bucky's seen Natasha cry and he hated it so much he vowed to never let them fall again.

 

He looks at Clint in Natasha’s arms and remembers the shovel talk he had given the alpha. He can still taste the alcohol Nat and he were consuming when she told him she was hopelessly gone on a guy and the only issue being he was an alpha. Alpha-alpha bonds were not uncommon but they were frowned upon and Natasha was worried about Bucky’s acceptance even if she never admitted to it. As if Bucky would ever push her away.

 

He had also seen the fear of rejection in her eyes; he had been there to see the joy of acceptance and the subsequent delight when Clint had proposed. He’ll never forget the happy tears either.

 

The foster siblings smile at each other over their spouses’ heads and the same sappy, happy thoughts are written across both their eyes. Infinite happiness lies in the smiles they flash each other and they both blink back tears.

 

They deserve this. After all that they’ve been through, they both deserve their happy endings. Bucky nods at Clint’s clumsy attempt at a dance and Natasha nods towards the floor where Steve ever-so-often keeps stepping on Bucky's feet. The two alphas laugh it off and turn to their partners.

 

Bucky's happy for Natasha, always will be; just like she’s for him.

 

“She won’t be able to; I've got my knight in shining armour with me to kick her ass,” he continues the conversation from before and it brings back Steve's attention from trying to burrow into Bucky's chest. Bucky notices the way Steve starts to shiver lightly and immediately steps away to take off his suit jacket and wrap the omega in it.

 

“No offence, baby, but if it comes to you two, I'm on team Nat. It is harder to win her affection than find a new husband.” Steve flashes him a cheeky grin as he pulls on Bucky's jacket and sighs as soon as he settles into the jacket’s warmth. He loops his arms around Bucky's neck and steps closer to his mate again.

 

“Full offence taken! Betrayed by my own husband. You're sleeping on the couch tonight, asshole,” Bucky mock grumbles as he catches sight of Pietro at one of the tables. He's there with his friends and they all seem to be having a fun time.  Pietro throws his head back as he laughs about something and a weight falls off Bucky's shoulders. The beta’s happy and Bucky finds immense joy in the fact. Sensing somebody watching him, Pietro turns around and catches Bucky's eyes. He winks at the brunet and turns back to his conversation, completely missing the fond eye-roll Bucky throws his way.

 

He’s so incredibly proud of Pietro. The blonde’s just been offered an internship with one of the best corporates in America and Bucky is so happy for him. Pietro is young; he will rise in ranks before any of them can blink. He looks forward to being there for Pietro’s graduation and he can already promise snotty tears and uncontrollable sobs. He has a heavy history with Pietro but he knows they are going to be fine. He’ll always love Pietro; he’s just not in love with Pietro.

 

The alpha smiles as Pietro spits out some beer and makes a face; may he never like the taste of beer.

 

“Now don’t be like that, at least let me take the bed. I have a bad back,” Steve grumbles playfully and Bucky chuckles again. He moves to push Steve away but the omega clings onto him like a gritty koala.

 

“Fucker.”

 

“Nah, that would be you,” Steve retorts cheerfully and Bucky's almost swallows his tongue. Even after two years of knowing each other and the majority of it being together, Steve still manages to surprise the fuck out of Bucky. He cannot believe the number of times he’s been blindsided by something thoughtful the omega says or does or by the sheer magnitude of love he feels when he looks at Steve.

 

Steve manages to get him tongue-tied, cross-eyed, and completely stupid and in-love and Bucky loves every goddamn second of it.

 

Sam had called him whipped once and Bucky doesn’t think that even begins to cover who Steve Rogers makes him.

 

Stupid, beloved. Reckless, happy. An asshole, sappy.

 

Steve found a home in Bucky and he opened every door and window in the home until only sunlight, breeze, and warmth remained.

 

“I love you, angel, I love you so much.”

 

“Love you too. I'm glad I found you, Buck,” Steve confesses softly and Bucky barely manages to contain his grin. He lifts Steve gently till he stands on Bucky's toes and it brings Steve's eyes closer to his. The blonde watches him with curious baby-blues and Bucky promises to drown in them everyday until his last breath.

 

He looks up and finds Sarah’s eyes. She smiles knowingly at him from above the rim of her glass and he ducks his head shyly. Sarah looks better than Bucky's ever seen her and he knows it is thanks to Sam. Sarah started therapy almost a year back and he’s so incredibly proud of how far she has come. She takes a self-defence class now, attends therapy, is the head-nurse after working at the same place for decades, and finally smiles without the burden of a lifetime. Sometimes, Bucky will see a glimmer of pain in her eyes and it pains him. But he knows recovery is not a straight slope and he is proud of how far she has come. Last week, she mentioned a beta she worked with and Steve gave him a sly look. It’s too soon to say it’s going somewhere but neither is she. If she is ready to try, Bucky and Steve will be there for her, with shovel talks and pitchforks if necessary.

 

He looks down at his mate and can’t help but think of the rollercoaster the past two years have been. He’s glad this is where they ended up; just like he is every time he looks at Steve but he does have one small regret.

 

“You know all this” -he gestures to the reception around them with his eyes- “does make me think I might enjoy a more festive expression of our commitment to one another.” He holds his breath as Steve's eyes grow wide until the omega finally splutters out- “Are you quoting Brooklyn 99 at me, Buck?”

 

Bucky laughs at the incredulity in Steve's voice but he can still see the question and vulnerability in those eyes. He places a chaste kiss to Steve's lips and one to his bond mark before straightening himself and looking right into Steve's eyes.

 

“I'm suggesting we hold an honest-to-goodness wedding, Stevie. Nothing too elaborate, we’re not the Kardashian-Wests after all.” He hopes Steve can hear the actual question he's asking, can see his vulnerability in his eyes. He hopes Steve can hear Bucky’s heart- the heart that beats for Steve now- and he hopes Steve says yes.

 

Steve's eyes sparkle and shimmer for a moment before he closes them and lets his head fall on Bucky's chest again.

 

“You know it is really tacky to propose at someone else’s wedding, right?” he sniffs as he questions and Bucky huffs out a laugh. He pulls Steve into a tight hug and rubs an arm down the omega’s back.

 

“Is that a no?”

 

“Of course not, you asshole! Yes, Buck, I will marry you again’ I’ll marry you a thousand times, over in every fucking universe. You're not getting rid of me ever!” the omega answers softly and Bucky feels immense relief course through him. He surreptitiously wipes away the tears gathering in his eyes and pulls the omega back to kiss every part of his face.  

 

“God, I pray not, Stevie,” he whispers softly as he takes the blonde’s lips with his own. He kisses Steve until they’re both breathless and giddy and their teeth clash together from the too-wide smiles their faces are sporting. Bucky closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Steve as they both daydream about the life that lies ahead of them- a life they’ve already pledged to the other.

**

Notes:

As an write this note, all I can think of is the fact that I am not ready to say goodbye to this story. I have been looking forward to this moment ever since I wrote the first chapter; this is the moment where I finally get to say "I completed a WIP! I have a multi-chapter fic up. I did it and I am glad!!

This fic means a lot to me, not just because it was the first multi-chapter fic of mine, but because I made so many friends in the course of the past year and some. I could name all of you, thank you all for sticking with me as I wrote the slowest- slow burn I could bring myself to write, but these 5000 characters AO3 is giving me would be few and inadequate to convey how grateful and blessed I am. All the words in the world won't be enough to thank all of you and I am not gonna embarrass you guys with anything but the best.

All of you have been the best readers and I really hope you guys will continue with me. I adore all of you and really hope the best for you all.

If you liked the fic and my writing, I hope you'll subscribe.

 

Future Projects:
Darling, You Hold My Heart In the Palm of Your Hands: Royalty au, Prince Steve and Prince Bucky. Two Person love triangle.

You Are the Poison I Crave: Captain America Steve, Hydra Bucky, Enemies to Lovers. Canon divergence.

Notes:

Other works: (All one-shots)
1. All of Me, Loves All of You
Asexual Steve Rogers/Gay Bucky Barnes. Angst with Happy ending.
2. How To Confess Your Love: A Guide By A Jerk
Canon-divergent. Tooth-Rotting Fluff. Bucky is a jerk who torments Steve.
3. Under the Stars
Established Relationship. Pre-world war stucky. They go on a date.
4. Kissing 101
Canon Divergent. Getting together. Bucky teaches Steve how to kiss.
5. Your Love Gives Me Wings
Established Relationship. Porn With Plot. Top Bucky Barnes.
6. The Best Gift of All
Post Captain America: Winter Soldier. Getting Together. Pining.