Work Text:
Bucky’s foot tapped to the 80’s pop track playing over the speakers in the garage in spite of himself. Today was Monty’s turn to choose the playlist, and he always went with whatever cheesy pop hits playlist came up first on his spotify home page. Bucky wasn’t about to complain about that, even though it didn’t match his mood; it was better than Jacques’ strange mix of musical theatre soundtracks and EDM. It had been one of those low key shitty days -- the ones when you’re almost running late, but not quite, so your entire morning is a vague haze of panic and stress in a race against the clock and the subway train. His coffee had splashed onto his sleeve, he’d had to rush through his breakfast and given himself the hiccups, then when he finally made it in, he’d spent the first hour of work recovering from the stitch he had gotten running from the subway station. It hadn’t helped that he’d woken up to Steve fast asleep in his bed, looking so peaceful and snuggly that it took every ounce of Bucky’s willpower to get out of bed in the first place.
He hadn’t packed a lunch, and his plans to go to the nice deli up the street were spoiled by the arrival of a client insisting on speaking to him and him alone, then taking an hour and a half to explain exactly what they believed the issue to be and ignoring Bucky when he tried to explain that it was actually a pretty simple fix which he could have finished by the end of the day. By the time he managed to get rid of them, he was hungry enough that he just grabbed a shitty refrigerated sandwich from the bodega across the street and wolfed it down outside the garage without paying much attention to what it tasted like at all.
He texted Steve as he ate, the brief interaction managing to bring a smile to his face in spite of everything. When he got back in, everyone else was standing together at the back of the floor, near the office. He frowned and made his way back to them. Dum Dum looked somewhat resigned, and Gabe was chewing on his lip the way he usually did when he was deep in thought.
As Bucky approached, Phillips came into view in the doorway to the office. When he spotted Bucky, he took a deep breath.
“Great, everyone’s here. I wanted to have a word with you all,” he announced. His voice didn’t trend towards overtly expressive on the best of days, but it was particularly blank on this occasion. Bucky crossed his arms and leaned against a car, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’d had a sense of dread in his stomach all day, and he just knew this was it coming to a head now. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he allowed himself a moment of distraction to imagine what Steve might have sent. Bucky’s last message had been a grumpy emoji, so Steve’s response might be anything from a paragraph-long ode to his dick, to a cute selfie with Alpine. Bucky wasn’t sure which he’d prefer, if he was being honest. Phillips was still talking, and Bucky tuned back in just in time for the key point.
“So with all that said, I’ve made the decision to retire and sell this place. I’ll do what I can to make sure the new owners keep all of you on, but honestly I can’t make any promises.”
A ripple of surprised sounds spread around the garage. There had been a few whispered rumours that Phillips was considering retirement, but none of them expected it would come so soon, nor that he’d just sell the place outright. Bucky excused himself for the toilet and slipped his phone out of his pocket. Turned out, Steve’s message was a picture. It probably wasn’t intended to be cute, but it was somehow even more adorable for that -- Steve was sitting at his work desk, head resting on top of a stack of paper and pouting, hair messed up around him and cheek smushed against the page. The caption just said ‘Too tired to work, ur fault.’ Bucky felt a second surge of disappointment beneath the wave of affection he felt at the image. Clearly, Steve had woken up and gone home, which meant Bucky would be going home to a Steve-less apartment when he finished up for the day.
He texted back, informing Steve of how unfairly cute he was and attaching a grumpy photo of his own. He was in his grimy work clothes, and while Steve didn’t usually particularly love the reality of the smell and grease stains that came with them, Bucky was very aware of how much his boyfriend enjoyed the aesthetic. He just caught Steve’s response, “I’m unfair???” before he slipped his phone back in his pocket and went back to work.
He tried and failed to shove Phillips’ news aside for the rest of the work day, throwing himself into his work and humming along to George Michael and Tiffany while his colleagues speculated about the fate of their jobs in whispers.
His efforts were futile, though, because as soon as his hands were free and he was on his way out the door, his brain was flooded with whys and what-ifs.
What if the next owner let everyone go and he couldn’t make rent?
Why hadn’t he put more money aside in case of something like this?
What if the place is sold to someone who’s a dick to work for and he has to quit anyway?
Why had he let Steve talk him into investing in a new TV? Sure, he’d needed the push since his old one was tiny, with a crack running across the screen, but he could use that money if he was about to launch into a job search.
He took out his phone to call Steve more than once, each time deciding to wait until he was at home and could flop into bed in order to be as sappy as he wanted to be mid-whine without providing content for some random’s “Overheard in NYC” page. His will was running thin by the time he got to his building, and he had the contact pulled up, ready to hit the call button as he started climbing the stairs. He paused at the realisation that there was a delicious smell coming from his apartment when he reached his floor. When he opened the door, Alpine didn’t make her usual escape attempt, which meant only one thing.
“Steve?” Bucky called out, and sure enough, when he made his way further into the apartment, Steve was standing in his kitchen, stirring something in a large pan with Alpine curled up at his feet. The sight alone was almost enough to prick the dark bubble which had been building up in his head since Phillips’ announcement. God, he was so fucking in love.
“Hey sweetheart,” Steve responded, and Bucky crossed over to pull him into a kiss. He felt Steve smile against his lips, but he pulled away and turned his attention back to the stove almost immediately.
Bucky pouted, and Steve laughed at him.
“Sorry, I gotta keep stirring this or it’ll get all gloopy and shit.” Bucky peered into the pan and then up at Steve.
“Risotto?” he asked, and Steve nodded. “Any particular reason you broke into my kitchen and started making Italian food? Not that I’m complaining.”
Steve shrugged, and Bucky moved to stand behind him, wrapping his hands around his waist and sighing at the warmth. Steve added some liquid to the pan, and Bucky felt back muscles shift through the t-shirt he was wearing.
“You sounded like you were having a rough day, and I wanted to try out this recipe. Figured I’d treat you.” Bucky pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, squeezing tighter. Steve continued, “Though, full disclosure, this may actually turn out to be total shit. Your heat pack is in the microwave already, by the way. If you need it.” The microwave dinged at that moment and Bucky let go of Steve to retrieve the lavender scented pouch, draping it over his bad shoulder with a sigh. His eyes fluttered closed as the heat seeped into his aching joint and he returned to cling to Steve again.
One of Steve’s hands drifted down to Bucky’s as he continued to stir with the other. He took hold of Bucky’s hand, lifting it up and pressing a kiss to the knuckles before speaking.
“You should change out of your work clothes, relax. This’ll be done in a few minutes.” Bucky hummed in protest, hugging Steve tighter again before doing as he was told, heading into his room and changing into a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old shirt, which he was pretty sure actually belonged to Steve.
Steve was still busy in the kitchen when he got back, so Bucky sat down in the living room and dropped his head into his hands. Without his permission, his thoughts began to spiral once more.
“Fuck,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes closed in a futile attempt to block out his impending unemployment. He looked up just in time to see Steve entering the room holding two dishes of risotto and looking incredibly proud of himself. His face fell when he saw Bucky’s expression.
“What’s the matter?” Steve asked, sitting next to him and putting the dishes down on the coffee table. Bucky shrugged and let his head drop into Steve’s lap. Steve’s hand automatically started brushing through his hair, and Bucky felt Alpine hop up onto the sofa next to him. He took a deep breath and explained Phillips’ announcement. Steve let him talk, listening as he outlined what had happened, and then started expanding on his worries.
“What if they do let all of us go? I need this job, Steve, and a lot of the other guys need it even more. What if I can’t find something else and I’m stuck with no way to pay rent? I love this place, I can’t--”
“Oh, Buck,” Steve finally interrupted and his hand stopped in Bucky’s hair. Bucky turned to look up at him.
“I’m scared, Steve.” Bucky felt his voice crack, and Steve’s hand moved to rest on his cheek.
“I know, but we’ll figure this out, okay?” Steve’s voice was soft and tender, and it went directly to Bucky’s chest. He let Steve help him back into a sitting position, though he stayed flush against his side.
“First, there’s no guarantee they will let people go, but if they do, Buck, you’re amazing at your job. You’ll be able to find something else no problem. Will it be like how it is now? Will you enjoy spending time with everyone you work with? Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. But you will be able to pay rent, you’ll still meet the guys for beers or Mario Party nights, and you’ll adapt. Things will work out, okay?”
Bucky nodded. He knew Steve was right, but still, it was hard to force himself away from all the worst-case scenarios which kept cropping up in his mind.
“I know it’s a lot to process. I wish there was more I could do, Buck. Why don’t we eat and get your mind off it for a while, then we can come up with some plans in the morning?” Steve suggested, and it was as good as anything Bucky could think to do. He picked up his dish of now slightly cool risotto and took a bite. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but it was good enough to eat, and even better for the fact that Steve had made it for him.
They wound up putting on old episodes of The Good Place, one of the few things they could agree on to watch together, and cuddled on the sofa long after the food was finished. Bucky stood and brought the dishes out to the kitchen, feeling a strange tightness in his chest as he looked at his magnets on the fridge, the way he knew exactly how to adjust the faucet to get the right temperature for the dishes, the familiar view from the window. He pushed his mind from the lingering thoughts and finished up. Steve was right, he’d find another job if he needed to, he wouldn’t lose his apartment. He was just catastrophizing.
When he returned to the living room, he saw Steve sprawled out on the sofa, legs stretched out and one arm up under his head, exposing a strip of skin just above his waistband.
Steve grinned and beckoned him over when he spotted him watching, and Bucky was helpless to follow. He lay on top of Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and slipping them up under his shirt. Steve held him close, and they lay like that in silence as the next episode played, until Steve let go to run a hand through his hair, pressing a kiss to his head.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. Bucky shrugged and hugged Steve a little tighter.
“I don’t know. Still feel a little sick, but this is nice.”
They lulled into silence for another few minutes, watching the TV without really paying attention. Bucky sniffed.
“Hey, Stevie?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks.” He didn’t really know what he was specifically thanking Steve for -- for coming over, for making dinner and letting him ramble? For listening and understanding, but somehow helping him calm down? All of it, probably. “You’re the best.” He hoped Steve would understand what he meant.
“That’s my job, Bucky. I’m here to help.”
“I know that, sweetheart.” The mood felt too heavy, suddenly, and Bucky decided he needed to lighten it up a little. He stroked his hand along Steve’s side. “I can think of a thing or two you could do to help me out right now, though. You did mention taking my mind off of things,” he said with a coy smile. Steve raised an eyebrow as Bucky shifted, making sure that the semi he had sprouted while cuddling was unmistakably pressed against Steve’s leg.
“Is that so? Just say the word.” Bucky rolled his hips properly, shifting just a little to the right and then inhaled sharply at the feel of Steve’s dick against his own, even through the layers of clothes between them. Steve’s eyes flickered closed and his head tipped back with a breathy sigh, which Bucky swallowed with a kiss.
Steve’s hands gripped his hips in a firm hold and he started to press open mouthed kisses to Bucky’s neck in a way that told him he was starting to get worked up. Bucky moaned, but bit it back as another idea came to mind.
“Steve, please, I want…”
“Tell me Buck, anything for you.” Bucky rolled his hips again and leaned down to whisper into Steve’s ear.
“I want a bubble bath.” Steve swore as Bucky sat up and moved off of him to sit back on the sofa.
“You’re an asshole, holy shit.” Bucky laughed and leaned in to kiss him again.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” He rested their foreheads together and smiled innocently. “Now -- I’m having a rough day, I stink from work, and I need some bubbles. Don’t worry though, I definitely have plans for you after.” Steve grinned and kissed him again, then shook his head as he stood to go into the bathroom and fill the bath without Bucky even asking.
Alpine padded after him, following him into the bathroom. As the sound of running water came from the bathroom, Bucky sighed and thought about anything but the stressful ideas pressing at the edge of his mind. After a few minutes of this, Netflix asked if they were still there, so he clicked it off and followed Steve into the bathroom where the tub was just finished filling, a sheen of lavender-scented bubbles floating on top of the water.
Steve smiled when he saw him, and slipped past him with a kiss. Bucky grabbed his arm as he was leaving the room, and Steve turned back.
“Steve? I know the tub isn’t big enough for two but… could you stay?” Steve smiled and nodded, so Bucky undressed quickly and stepped into the tub, then watched appreciatively as Steve pulled off his shirt to sit on a pile of towels on the floor, leaning against the edge of the tub and facing Bucky.
Bucky relaxed in the water and let himself sink down so his head was submerged briefly, before coming up for air. His hair streamed with water, and Steve reached over to brush it away from his face. Bucky suddenly felt like shit. Steve had dropped everything to come over the second Bucky had mentioned he was having a bad day, had anticipated that he would want his heat pack, had cooked and offered both sympathy and solutions, while Bucky did nothing but whine and mope. He sighed.
“So how was your day up until I derailed it with my bullshit?” Bucky asked, feigning nonchalance, and Steve raised an eyebrow as if he saw right through him, which he probably did.
“Boring. Had some artist’s block, I was glad to get away. You know I like being with you.” Bucky hummed.
“You’re too good to me, Stevie, you know that? What do I ever do for you?” Steve’s finger, which had been idly tracing circles in the surface of the water, flicked out to splash Bucky.
“What about the other day when I wanted to draw you mid-stretch and you had to sit like that for hours with your arm up over your head so I could get it right? If anything, this is just me feeling bad because it’s probably my fault your shoulder is acting up.” Bucky rolled his eyes.
“You know I only did that because I like how you look when you draw, right?” Steve laughed and splashed him again.
“Oh, and you think I’m getting nothing out of seeing you all wet and soaped up in the tub like this?” Steve’s words were playful, but Bucky inhaled sharply at the way Steve’s eyes flickered over him, and suddenly the energy in the room drew taut, Bucky forgetting all about whatever he had been whining about under the heat of Steve’s gaze.
Bucky was exposed, covered only by the sparse few bubbles on the surface of the water, but he felt safe with Steve. Besides, the heat of Steve’s eyes on him was enough for the simmering heat in his belly which had been there since they lay on the couch to take over and banish any sensations of discomfort. Steve seemed to notice, because the hand which had been in the water moved to stroke over his knee where it rested just at the surface of the water. Steve’s fingers brushed over his skin delicately, coyly, barely making contact with each pass.
Bucky glanced over, noticed the growing bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans, and inhaled sharply.
Steve’s fingers moved deeper into the water, stroking over the skin on his thighs, and Bucky shivered in spite of the hot water he was sitting in.
“Steve?” Bucky asked, but Steve just kept going, gentle touches to his leg moving higher, until he was stroking the crease of his hip, and Bucky bit his lip. He could feel himself growing fully hard now, and there were few enough bubbles that he knew Steve could see.
“Steve, please.” Steve stroked back down his leg, firmer this time, moving away from where Bucky really wanted him. Bucky felt the touch burning hotter than the bathwater all the way down to his ankle, fingertips pressing firmly into his skin before they moved back up. Finally, Steve’s hand reached the base of Bucky’s cock and he wrapped his fingers around it loosely. Bucky arched his back and sighed as Steve began to stroke him under the water, gently at first.
He teased Bucky, never quite giving him enough. Long, calloused artist’s fingers brushed along the underside of his cock, then rubbed tenderly over the tip before stroking downwards.
“You’re so pretty like this, Buck.”
“Steve, y’r fuckin killing me here,” Bucky gasped when Steve’s hand reached down further to cup his balls gently before returning to his dick.
“Just relax, Buck. Let me take care of you.” He continued his slow, tortuous movements until Bucky was gasping and inarticulate, head resting helplessly on the edge of the tub and bottom lip bitten red. Then Steve leaned in to kiss him, licking at the swollen skin Bucky had been biting down on, and while Bucky was distracted by the press of lips, Steve tightened his grip and started to pick up his pace.
Gone were the lazy, seemingly aimless movements, replaced with a hard grip and intent strokes. Bucky instinctively tried to thrust up into his grip, while reaching up to pull himself up by wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder, but his feet had no purchase inside the tub and he slipped, wound up pulling Steve down to him and causing water to splash onto the floor and soak the towels Steve had been sitting on.
Steve huffed out a laugh and shifted so he was half kneeling, half leaning into the tub while keeping up his attention on Bucky’s cock. His jeans were saturated, and his torso glistened with water droplets. Bucky reached out to lick them away, but Steve leaned back. His eyes were hooded with heat but he shook his head. He slowed his movements and Bucky whined.
“No, this is all about you,” he insisted, and renewed his efforts to take Bucky apart. It was all Bucky could do to hold his head above the water, senses overwhelmed by the scented steam rising from the tub, the sight of Steve’s eyes drinking him in, the way that he felt with Steve’s hand wrapped around him, taking him apart piece by piece.
Bucky wasn’t sure if he could remember the last time he felt so taken care of. Couldn’t remember a time when anybody other than Steve had been so unselfishly devoted to his pleasure without any demand for reciprocation -- though Bucky definitely intended to reciprocate at some point. That was his last coherent thought before Steve’s hand changed angle and Bucky was coming without warning, shouting Steve’s name and reaching out to pull him in for a kiss.
“Fuck, I love you,” he moaned into Steve’s mouth and felt the answering smile against his lips. His whole body was tingling in the afterglow, and he felt as though he could live in this moment forever.
“Love you too,” Steve responded. “You should probably get out of the bath now though, since it’s full of your spunk.” Bucky grimaced. Gross. So much for staying in the moment. He clambered out with Steve’s help, as his legs had gone distinctly jelly-like. He wrapped himself in the fluffy towel Steve provided, and when Steve leaned over to pull the plug from the tub, Bucky crowded in behind him and let his hands caress the skin just above his waistband.
“These jeans are soaked, sweetheart. I think we should probably get you out of them. Wouldn’t want you to go catching a cold, would we?” Steve stood and turned in his arms.
“You’re so considerate, Buck. Got something else for me to wear?” Bucky raised a brow, and Steve chuckled. Bucky pulled him flush against him and slipped his hands under the fabric, licking his lips.
“That won’t be necessary. Bedroom. Now.” Bucky felt Steve’s cock jump inside the wet jeans at the demand, and he took the opportunity to hook his fingers into the belt loops and pull Steve through to the bedroom, licking at the water droplets on his skin as he went. Bucky stepped back then, allowing Steve the chance to peel himself out of the pants.
He let the towel drop and pulled his hair up with the tie he kept around his wrist. He reached over to the bedside drawer, taking out a few items and putting them within easy reach. When Steve was ready, he pulled him close again.
“You take such good care of me, Stevie, I don’t deserve you,” He sighed, as Steve pulled him on top of him on the bed.
“You do, Buck. You deserve the fucking worl-- Nghh,” Steve retorted, trailing off with a grunt as Bucky slid down and started pressing kisses to his cock.
God, Steve’s cock was fucking perfect. Bucky didn’t think he would ever get tired of Steve’s cock in his mouth, against his own, whatever way he could get it. He wasnt sure what he could have done to possibly deserve Steve, but he was sure as fuck going to take every opportunity he could to make it clear how much he appreciated it. He looked up at Steve through his lashes.
“Well, if that’s the case, then at least let me take care of you in return,” He half-whispered, before wrapping his lips around the head of Steve’s cock, and laving his tongue over the slit. Steve sighed in satisfaction, letting out a high pitched “yes” as Bucky swallowed him down deeper.
Bucky took his time working Steve over with his mouth, pulling off to press kisses to his hip bone when he began to suspect Steve was getting close to coming before returning his attention with renewed vigour only moments later.
He pulled off again and Steve reached over to where Bucky had left the lube on the bed, holding it out to Bucky through wrecked sounding breaths. Bucky licked his lips and took it. He looked Steve up and down, flushed skin on his face and chest, legs splayed for Bucky.
“Turn over?” he asked, and Steve did as he was told eagerly, arching his back so his hips were angled upwards. Bucky reached out and pulled down a pillow for him to rest his hips on, then grabbed Steve’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart to reveal the puckered hole.
Bucky couldn’t help himself from leaning forward and licking a stripe up the crease, pausing over the ring of muscle there and pressing gently, not quite breaching the entrance, but enough to make it clear what he wanted.
“Fuck, Bucky. Please.” Steve gasped, and Bucky ran his tongue over the spot again before pulling back.
“Jesus, Steve. Did you shower before coming over? Get yourself ready for me?” Steve whined and pressed back against him, which Bucky took to mean yes. “What do you want, Stevie? Wanna hear you say it.” Bucky watched as the hole fluttered slightly while Steve moaned. Bucky began placing open-mouthed kisses over Steve’s ass while he waited for his answer, unable to keep his mouth off of him for even a second.
“Shit. Buck. Want your mouth, want -- want you to fuck me with your tongue. Fuck.” Steve swore when Bucky scraped his teeth over the pale, tender skin where his thigh met the swell of his ass.
“Want me to eat that pretty little hole of yours? Get you to come with just my mouth and my fingers?” Steve’s answering whine was good enough for Bucky, accompanied as it was by him pushing his ass back into Bucky’s face.
“You got it doll. I got you,” Bucky said, kissing his way back up until he was over that spot again, ghosting a breath over it and pressing his tongue there again, this time licking insistently at the entrance before pressing in, relishing in each of the sounds he managed to pull from Steve in the process.
Bucky filed away each sound in his brain, in a constantly growing folder he revisited every time they were obliged to spend a night apart. He loved everything about Steve, but the sounds he made during sex were nothing short of heavenly.
He was so fucking receptive, was the thing. Bucky was learning quickly the language of Steve’s sex noises. Which particular whine meant “yes, more,” and which was to indicate something akin to “a little to the left.” He knew when Steve was close from the frequency of his grunts and curses, and when something wasn’t quite working for him by the timbre of the grunts which vibrated through his chest.
Bucky worked Steve over with his tongue as promised, slicking up his fingers and adding one, then another when Steve’s frustrated growl indicated he needed more. Bucky kept going, feeling the lube from his fingers smearing on his face, his own drool on his chin, but ignoring all of that in favour of drinking in every single one of Steve’s responses.
Steve was close, he could tell. He pressed his fingers in further, finding that spot which never failed to draw out the quick pants followed by a low groan which indicated Steve was getting close. From there, it was quick work to bring Steve right to the point of orgasm.
“Buck, I’m gonna--hnnnnng fuck,” Steve gasped, but Bucky knew already. He stroked over that spot again, accompanying it with a particularly filthy flick of his tongue, and then came his favourite noise of all; Steve released a wrecked, ragged shout, which trailed off into breathless moans as he came.
Bucky slowed his movements,pulled his fingers out but kept going with his mouth until Steve whimpered softly and flopped down onto the mattress. Bucky crawled back up, laying on top of him and pressing lazy kisses to his back.
“Y’r so fucking good at that. Have I mentioned before how insanely good at that you are?” Steve’s voice was muffled from the way his face was pressed into the blankets, and Bucky chuckled.
“It may have come up in conversation, once or twice.” he said, pulling back just enough to give Steve space to turn over, and then cuddling back into him. “The words made for eating ass were used, I believe.” Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around Bucky.
“That does sound like something I would have said,” admitted Steve. “‘Long as you know.”
They lay in silence like that for a little while, letting out an occasional giggle which had become the norm after a particularly good orgasm. Bucky’s head was resting on Steve’s chest, and he could feel the heartbeat through his chest. Steve’s hand ran through his hair, gently untying it and untangling it from the bath.
Bucky finally sat up and leaned over to pick up his discarded towel, then used it to wipe them down a little. A thought occurred to him, then.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, Bucky?”
“I didn’t text you about what happened. You were at your own place earlier, why were you here when I got home? Not that I’m mad about it, just curious.”
Steve seemed to be debating with himself before he answered. “I just like spending time with you, Buck.”
Bucky leans away a little, propping himself up on one elbow and raising an eyebrow at Steve. “Sure, but you don’t cook. Like, at all. But you went and found that recipe, put time and effort into preparing it, when you know I’d have been just as happy with takeout. You had the ingredients and everything -- this was planned already, wasn’t it?” Bucky realised as he was talking that it was true, and the way Steve’s cheeks turned pink proved to be confirmation. Steve had planned this as a romantic evening for them, which Bucky had thrown off course. “What was all this for?”
Steve bit his lip, then smiled at Bucky. “Honestly?”
Bucky nodded.
“I got notice that my lease is up next week, asking if I wanted to re-up. Apparently they’d written before, but I’ve been, well, I’ve been distracted.” His eyes dropped to Bucky’s lips and his blush deepened. Bucky laughed and leaned down to kiss him.
“I… Well, I wanted to talk to you first, before I give my answer.”
“Not sure whether you want to stay in that shitty box?” Bucky raised an eyebrow incredulously.
“I’m not sure if I wanna look for somewhere myself,” Steve clarified, and Bucky understood.
“Oh,” he said. “You mean, we could…”
“If that’s what you wanted!” Steve hastened to clarify. “I wanted to talk about it.”
Bucky smiled, surprising himself with how little hesitation he felt. “I’d love to live with you, Steve. If you want that too. I wanna wake up next to you, knowing you’ll be here when I get home, and I wanna argue about whose turn it is to take out the trash or clean Alp’s litter box. I’m in.”
Steve beamed and rolled them over, making Bucky fall back onto the bed. He let Steve kiss over his face in happiness, then pulled back.
“Besides, I might be unemployed soon,” Bucky mused. “A little help with rent would be appreciated, actually.”
Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. “Clearly, I haven’t done a good enough job of taking your mind off of things,” he muttered in between kisses pressed to Bucky’s clavicle.
Bucky moaned and leaned into the kisses. “Clearly. Gonna have to try harder, next time,” he grinned, and Steve looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“Next time?” he asked.
“Or, right now. Right now is good too-- Fuck!” His voice cut off as Steve attached his mouth to one of his nipples and dragged his teeth over it.
They made out like that, both too fresh off the first round to get hard again but still enjoying being together, sharing breaths and touching wherever they could manage.
“I know you just had a bath, but we should probably shower soon,” Steve mumbled, after a while. Bucky could tell from his voice that he was half asleep, and as much as he wanted to remain cuddling he knew if they stayed like this any longer they’d both doze off, and he didn’t want to wake up the next morning with come dried into his chest. He sat up with some difficulty and patted Steve’s side.
“Alright then, let’s go.”
They showered together, and got a little carried away between the steam rising from the hot water and the confined space. They couldn’t do too much -- the shower was mounted over the bathtub, and they’d figured out pretty early on that the bottom of the tub was far too slippery for proper shower sex -- but they made do, taking their time washing each other down, pulling in for sloppy, open-mouthed kisses under the spray of water and pressing closer than they strictly needed to.
Bucky was more than ready to take Steve up on round two by the time they shut off the water, and all but pulled Steve into the bedroom again.
“We can shower again, Steve, I just want to--” he cut off as he heard his phone ringing in the pocket of his discarded jeans. It was set to ‘do not disturb’ mode, as it always was unless he was expecting a call, so the fact that it was ringing aloud meant that someone had tried to reach him multiple times.
“You should probably get that,” Steve sighed against his lips, and Bucky tried to ignore it, but the part of his mind which he had pushed aside, the part that worried for the future and stressed about his job, was forced back into the forefront with the sound of his ringtone. He sighed and grabbed the phone, checking the caller ID before answering.
“Hey, Dum Dum.” Bucky was resigned to hear the worst. Dum Dum usually knew more about the goings on at the garage than any of the others, and Bucky knew that had to be why he was calling.
“Hey, Bucky. I was trying to reach you for a while there, is this a bad time?”
Bucky sighed and sat down on his bed. Steve hovered in the doorway, and Bucky beckoned him in, leaning against him when he sat down next to him.
“It’s fine, I was just showering so I didn't see you calling. Is there news?”
“You could say that, yeah. I talked to Phillips after closing.” Dum Dum sounded strange, so Bucky asked what the verdict was.
“He’s adamant about selling, apparently some development firm has been looking at the place which is why he felt the need to warn us, cause they would wanna shut it down and build something on the site.”
Bucky leaned against Steve harder, felt reassuring arms wrap around his waist, lending comfort.
“So that’s it then? There’s no hope?” He could hear the dejection in his own voice. Steve pressed a kiss to his temple as Dum Dum hummed. There was something in the pitch of it. Something thoughtful, that pulled Bucky up short. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“Calm down, Barnes, I was just getting there. So, I was talking to Phillips and he let slip the preliminary offer from the development fund. It was pretty high, but he made it clear it wasn’t about the money for him. He said if he got an offer from someone who’d keep the business running, he’d take it, even if they couldn’t match the first offer. It got me thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” Bucky asked, sitting up straight and feeling Steve’s arms drop, though they didn’t release him fully.
“Well, you know how my dad passed a couple of years ago?” he asked. Bucky nodded, then hummed because he remembered Dum Dum couldn’t hear him. “Well, he left me a pretty solid lump sum in his will. I’ve been meaning to invest it somewhere, and I thought it might be time.”
A flicker of hope unfurled in Bucky’s chest. “Time for what?”
“Dad always liked coming to visit me at work, you remember how he’d always ask a million questions? I think he’d like it if this was where his money went.”
“What are you saying, Timothy?” Bucky insisted, unsure if his initial reaction was just wishful thinking.
“I’m going to put in an offer. I think he’ll take it. I’m gonna buy the fuckin’ garage.” Dum Dum sounded happy, he sounded excited and proud of himself, but there was a hit of sadness there too, no doubt thinking of his father. Bucky had liked old Mr. Dugan. He’d been as jolly and loud as his son, though marginally less prone to profanity.
“That’s incredible!” Bucky exclaimed, gleeful. “I’m so happy for you!” He couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. Dum Dum laughed through the phone speaker.
“Well, thanks. I just wanted to call and see what you thought about it. And also because I knew you’d be spiralling, jumping to the worst case scenario.”
Bucky laughed again, this time with a hint of embarrassment. “Well, you weren’t entirely wrong. But I’m really happy for you, Dum Dum. This is going to be great for you, forget about the rest of us.
“Thanks, Bucky. I’ll let you get back to Steve now, sorry to have interrupted.” His voice was coy, and Steve burst into laughter beside him. Bucky elbowed him in the ribs and he squawked as Dum Dum laughed again.
“Goodbye, asshole.”
“Bye, Bucky. See you at work tomorrow.” He was still laughing as he hung up the phone, and Bucky quickly locked it and threw it across the room to land on the soft chair under the window.
He turned and pushed Steve down onto the bed, then threw a leg over to straddle him. Steve’s laughter died as Bucky pressed him down.
“Now, where were we?” he asked, shifting so he was sitting on Steve’s rapidly filling cock.
“I think you were about to finish what you started earlier,” Steve all but purred, taking one of Bucky’s hands and bringing it down to his ass. Bucky grazed a finger over Steve’s hole obligingly, feeling it still loose from earlier. It wouldn’t take much for him to be ready for Bucky again.
“Now how can I say no, when you ask so nicely?” Bucky leaned down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, reaching over for the lube that was still resting on the bed. Steve sighed into his mouth as he slipped his first two fingers in at once, rapidly followed by a third.
When he finally slid in, it was with a whispered mantra of I love you’s dripping from his mouth. Steve met him word for word, thrust for thrust, and when they fell back onto the bed together, sweaty and sticky once again, gasping for breath in between giggles, Bucky felt happier than he thought was possible.
“Steve?”
“Mm-hm?”
“Steve.”
“Buck. Can’t word. Feel too good” Steve flopped out a hand to nudge Bucky, making him laugh harder. Bucky rolled back over to face Steve.
“Sorry. But Steve?” Steve hummed, and this time Bucky took it as all the response he was going to get. “I didn’t lose my job.” Steve turned to face him, smiling. He nodded, and Bucky continued. “You want to live with me,” Bucky continued. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Steve nodded again, but managed to find his words this time.
“I really do. If you still want that, now you know you don’t need help with the rent?”
Bucky knew Steve was joking, but he reached out to take his hand anyway, pressing a kiss to the knuckle.
“Steve, I would like nothing more than to keep waking up in this bed with you, every morning, forever.” It was sappy, but in his post orgasm bliss, he had no filter. And it was Steve, so he no longer had any desire to hold back. Steve’s answering smile was bright.
“I want that too. I can’t wait.” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips. Then he yawned.
“Lemme go check on Alpine and then we’ll sleep, okay?” Steve hummed sleepily as Bucky climbed reluctantly out of bed. Alpine was curled up peacefully on her cat tower, so Bucky filled two glasses of water, got a wet cloth from the bathroom, and came back to bed. He wiped them both down, and left the water on the nightstand, then curled in next to Steve.
As he began to doze off, he thought about the first time they’d gotten together.
“Hey, Steve?” Steve hummed sleepily into his side. “I think we should move your couch here. Too many good memories.”
“Damn right we’re keeping my couch, now go the fuck to sleep.”
Bucky chuckled sleepily and turned over so Steve was spooning him. He was warm, and safe, and comfortable.
So what if it had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start? Today was a very, very good day.