Day 2
Valentines' Advent Master Post
For Steph
Steve/Bucky, 1775, NC-17
Steve comes home feeling blue and Bucky does his best to cheer him up. (Trans!Steve)
As soon as Steve is inside his apartment, he closes and locks the door behind him. Sucking in a sharp breath he presses his back to the wood and sags, curling in on himself. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, pressing his face into his hands, the heels of his hands digging into his face. he closes his eyes. A sob escapes.
“You’re fine,” he tries, voice breaking.
It’s no use. He stretches out his legs as the tears fall down his face, leaving his cheeks wet and flushed. It’s the first time he’s broken down in a while, so he gives himself a break, waiting until the awful feeling passes before sniffling, wiping his cheeks, and pushing himself up.
He makes his way into the bedroom, shedding his shoes and jacket on the way. Steve dives onto his bed, landing on the mess of blankets with a soft thud. Cocooning himself beneath the soft duvet, he hopes that he can just sleep through the rest of the day and wake up an hour before he has to go to work. That’ll give him enough time to get ready. It’ll be fine.
“Steve.”
His head shoots up, and he turns to see that he’s not alone. There’s a dark-haired man standing in the doorway, shirtless, wearing sleep-rumpled pants and a waning smile. Steve wants to smile, he really does, but he’s not sure he wouldn’t start crying again if he tried. Neither of them speaks for a few seconds.
“I didn’t hear you come in. I was watching tv, and I-are you okay?” He looks so earnest, and Steve’s never been able to lie to him. He shakes his head. “Oh, sweetheart.”
And Steve can’t help it. His eyes tear up again as the bed shifts beside him and warm arms wrap around his waist, pulling him so that his back is pressed against the man’s front. The contact helps, and he wipes his eyes and speaks. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”
Bucky nods, his stubble tickling the back of Steve’s neck. “That was the plan, but the meetings finished a day early so I rescheduled the flight. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about you. What happened.”
Steve sighs. There’s no use stalling. He rolls onto his back, forcing Bucky to move to avoid being crushed-Steve always forgets that his boyfriend is smaller. Bucky’s always seemed bigger than life, especially before Steve started the hormone treatment, before Bucky’s job started pulling him away for weeks at a time. “The past few days have been… rough,” Steve says, the admission about as far as he’s willing to go, even with Bucky. “And this morning my mom called.”
Bucky goes still. “What did she want?”
“My cousin’s getting married. She wants me to go,” Steve replies, feeling oddly detached. “She even picked out a nice dress for me.”
Bucky makes an annoyed grunt, and it helps. It helps to know that, as mad as it had made Steve while the conversation was happening, Bucky is probably ten times as mad. He’s like that-always takes things more seriously than Steve. “And that’s all?”
Steve’s mouth opens to say yes, but then he pauses, presses his lips together. No that’s not all, but there’s no reason for the rest. He’s just been feeling like shit ever since Bucky left. He can feel Bucky radiating with anger behind him, knows there’s going to be a tirade to follow and that’s really the last thing he wants. He shifts onto his side, forcing a smile on his face. “Hey, but now that you’re home, maybe you can fix that?”
Bucky purses his lips, looking like he’s about to argue because they both know that no little thing is going to fix it, but he changes his mind and leans in, pressing their lips together. Steve melts into the kiss with all his being, so so glad that Bucky’s back, that he’s here, in Steve’s arms. Bucky moves over him, hands on either side of his face and knees bracketing his hips. Steve reaches up, running his hands down Bucky’s sides, slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of his boyfriend’s boxers.
Tsking, Bucky pulls back and places Steve’s hands on the back of his neck. “Not so fast, sweetheart. This is about you.” And without further ado, he pulls Steve up-well, he tries. Steve helps by sitting up-and works his shirt off, throwing it onto the floor. It’s quickly followed by Steve’s binder, which Bucky has a little difficulty with, but he’s done this so many times it barely takes more than a few moments of muttered curses before Steve’s shirtless. Bucky wastes no time in bending down, cupping one of Steve’s ample breasts and suckling the other.
Gasping, Steve digs his fingers into Bucky’s back, crying out as the man lightly drags his teeth over the sensitive skin. He switches, taking the other into his mouth and Steve throws his head back-Bucky is nothing if not enthusiastic, and he’s a self-proclaimed tits man. And Steve is fine with that, because Bucky is great with his hands and mouth. He continues to fondle Steve’s breasts until the man is crying out beneath him, the flesh sensitive and reddened from the attention. He moves lower, still idly flicking one of Steve’s nipples-honestly, this man is going to be the death of him-before pulling away to work off Steve’s pants and underwear. Steve seizes the chance to remove Bucky’s clothes too, and they’re both naked.
Bucky’s fully hard now, and Steve reaches for him but he’s pushed away again. “I told you already, this is just about you. Now stop trying to distract me.” Bucky kneels between Steve’s parted legs, and Steve sucks in a breath. He knows what’s going to happen, but he still cries out when Bucky drags his tongue up Steve’s wet folds, then repeats the motion. Steve’s a mess by the time Bucky adds a finger, rubbing at his clit.
“Fuck,” Steve curses, reaching down to thread his fingers through Bucky’s bedraggled hair. The man chuckles, sending vibrations coursing through Steve and that does it. He comes, shaking, as Bucky sucks him, making appreciative noises. He pulls away once Steve’s muscles stop spasming, and pressing a quick kiss to his thigh before coming up to lay beside him.
“Better?”
Steve hums, eyes falling closed. He feels Bucky place a chaste kiss atop each eyelid, and chuckles. “Sorry. You’re still-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky insists, tone firm. “You just go to sleep, sweetheart.” He watches at Steve smiles and pulls the blankets over himself. Bucky sits up, reaching down to brush his fingers through his boyfriend’s short hair, waiting until he’s sure the man is asleep before gently getting off the bed and padding into the bathroom.
He turns on the shower and steps inside, ignoring the cold water and reaching down to jerk himself off. He grits his teeth as thoughts of Steve drift off to thoughts of Steve’s ignorant mother and distant father, grunting as he goes soft. “Fuck,” he curses, leaning against the shower wall. She wants me to wear a dress, Steve had said. A fucking dress. Like Steve hasn’t been working hard to change himself, his body. Over just the last couple years soft curves had turned into hard lines, which Steve molded into powerful muscles. He weighs twice as much as he used to, and Bucky thinks he’s more gorgeous than ever-but he’s not foolish enough to think that Steve thinks the same. Especially not with his mother calling every week, begging him to go to this or that, wear some new dress she’d bought for him-bought for her daughter, who no longer exists. She only has Steve, has only ever had Steve but she still doesn’t realize that.
Bucky snarls as angry tears join the shower spray, and he realizes his hands are fists, nails cutting into his palm. He punches the shower wall, feeling the anger dissipate slightly, but it doesn’t help things. It doesn’t help Steve, who’s probably only pretending to be asleep in the other room. Bucky falls to the shower floor, biting his bottom lip to stop from making any noise as tears continue to fall down his face.
-
Steve wakes to an empty bed, but hears popping noises coming from the kitchen, quickly followed by a lovely smell permeating the air. He grabs the nearest pair of boxers and pulls them on-he notes the teddy bear design with a smile and knows it’s Bucky’s-not bothering with the binder. Steve doesn’t give a damn and he knows Bucky prefers him without it. He pushes himself out of bed and pads into the kitchen, where Bucky’s frying up bacon. He moans appreciatively and presses himself to Bucky’s back, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s smaller, slightly chubby tummy. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you make breakfast?”
Bucky hums. “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits? I’d kiss them right now but I’ve got bacon grease on my face. Because I’m a mess.”
“You’re definitely a mess,” Steve laughs, slapping his stomach playfully. He leans down to perch his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder and whispers, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you kissing them later. But-oh shit. I have work.”
“No, you don’t.”
Steve frowns. “What did you do?”
Bucky grins. “I called in. You have strep throat and you’re gonna be out for the rest of the week. Don’t worry. You can pay me back with cupcakes and multiple blowjobs.”
“You wish!” Steve scoffs, but he’s delighted, feels so much lighter. He’s content to watch as Bucky replaces the bacon with new strips, but something’s missing. “Hey, did you make-” He’s interrupted by a loud ding as the toaster pops up, revealing two honey-brown waffles. Steve sniffs dramatically. “I think you’re my soulmate.”
Bucky nods. “Damn straight.”
Steve draws light designs on Bucky’s stomach, contemplating. He nuzzles into Bucky’s neck after a moment and murmurs, “I love you.”
Bucky bites his lip, then turns off the stove. He turns to face Steve, takes his face into his hands and stares into his eyes. “I love you too, sweetheart.” Steve leans forward to kiss him so quickly and emphatically that Bucky falls backwards, almost tipping over the pan but Steve catches him at the last moment. Bucky laughs, throws his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, and returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. The bacon can wait.
For Steph
Steve/Bucky, 1775, NC-17
Steve comes home feeling blue and Bucky does his best to cheer him up. (Trans!Steve)
As soon as Steve is inside his apartment, he closes and locks the door behind him. Sucking in a sharp breath he presses his back to the wood and sags, curling in on himself. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, pressing his face into his hands, the heels of his hands digging into his face. he closes his eyes. A sob escapes.
“You’re fine,” he tries, voice breaking.
It’s no use. He stretches out his legs as the tears fall down his face, leaving his cheeks wet and flushed. It’s the first time he’s broken down in a while, so he gives himself a break, waiting until the awful feeling passes before sniffling, wiping his cheeks, and pushing himself up.
He makes his way into the bedroom, shedding his shoes and jacket on the way. Steve dives onto his bed, landing on the mess of blankets with a soft thud. Cocooning himself beneath the soft duvet, he hopes that he can just sleep through the rest of the day and wake up an hour before he has to go to work. That’ll give him enough time to get ready. It’ll be fine.
“Steve.”
His head shoots up, and he turns to see that he’s not alone. There’s a dark-haired man standing in the doorway, shirtless, wearing sleep-rumpled pants and a waning smile. Steve wants to smile, he really does, but he’s not sure he wouldn’t start crying again if he tried. Neither of them speaks for a few seconds.
“I didn’t hear you come in. I was watching tv, and I-are you okay?” He looks so earnest, and Steve’s never been able to lie to him. He shakes his head. “Oh, sweetheart.”
And Steve can’t help it. His eyes tear up again as the bed shifts beside him and warm arms wrap around his waist, pulling him so that his back is pressed against the man’s front. The contact helps, and he wipes his eyes and speaks. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”
Bucky nods, his stubble tickling the back of Steve’s neck. “That was the plan, but the meetings finished a day early so I rescheduled the flight. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about you. What happened.”
Steve sighs. There’s no use stalling. He rolls onto his back, forcing Bucky to move to avoid being crushed-Steve always forgets that his boyfriend is smaller. Bucky’s always seemed bigger than life, especially before Steve started the hormone treatment, before Bucky’s job started pulling him away for weeks at a time. “The past few days have been… rough,” Steve says, the admission about as far as he’s willing to go, even with Bucky. “And this morning my mom called.”
Bucky goes still. “What did she want?”
“My cousin’s getting married. She wants me to go,” Steve replies, feeling oddly detached. “She even picked out a nice dress for me.”
Bucky makes an annoyed grunt, and it helps. It helps to know that, as mad as it had made Steve while the conversation was happening, Bucky is probably ten times as mad. He’s like that-always takes things more seriously than Steve. “And that’s all?”
Steve’s mouth opens to say yes, but then he pauses, presses his lips together. No that’s not all, but there’s no reason for the rest. He’s just been feeling like shit ever since Bucky left. He can feel Bucky radiating with anger behind him, knows there’s going to be a tirade to follow and that’s really the last thing he wants. He shifts onto his side, forcing a smile on his face. “Hey, but now that you’re home, maybe you can fix that?”
Bucky purses his lips, looking like he’s about to argue because they both know that no little thing is going to fix it, but he changes his mind and leans in, pressing their lips together. Steve melts into the kiss with all his being, so so glad that Bucky’s back, that he’s here, in Steve’s arms. Bucky moves over him, hands on either side of his face and knees bracketing his hips. Steve reaches up, running his hands down Bucky’s sides, slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of his boyfriend’s boxers.
Tsking, Bucky pulls back and places Steve’s hands on the back of his neck. “Not so fast, sweetheart. This is about you.” And without further ado, he pulls Steve up-well, he tries. Steve helps by sitting up-and works his shirt off, throwing it onto the floor. It’s quickly followed by Steve’s binder, which Bucky has a little difficulty with, but he’s done this so many times it barely takes more than a few moments of muttered curses before Steve’s shirtless. Bucky wastes no time in bending down, cupping one of Steve’s ample breasts and suckling the other.
Gasping, Steve digs his fingers into Bucky’s back, crying out as the man lightly drags his teeth over the sensitive skin. He switches, taking the other into his mouth and Steve throws his head back-Bucky is nothing if not enthusiastic, and he’s a self-proclaimed tits man. And Steve is fine with that, because Bucky is great with his hands and mouth. He continues to fondle Steve’s breasts until the man is crying out beneath him, the flesh sensitive and reddened from the attention. He moves lower, still idly flicking one of Steve’s nipples-honestly, this man is going to be the death of him-before pulling away to work off Steve’s pants and underwear. Steve seizes the chance to remove Bucky’s clothes too, and they’re both naked.
Bucky’s fully hard now, and Steve reaches for him but he’s pushed away again. “I told you already, this is just about you. Now stop trying to distract me.” Bucky kneels between Steve’s parted legs, and Steve sucks in a breath. He knows what’s going to happen, but he still cries out when Bucky drags his tongue up Steve’s wet folds, then repeats the motion. Steve’s a mess by the time Bucky adds a finger, rubbing at his clit.
“Fuck,” Steve curses, reaching down to thread his fingers through Bucky’s bedraggled hair. The man chuckles, sending vibrations coursing through Steve and that does it. He comes, shaking, as Bucky sucks him, making appreciative noises. He pulls away once Steve’s muscles stop spasming, and pressing a quick kiss to his thigh before coming up to lay beside him.
“Better?”
Steve hums, eyes falling closed. He feels Bucky place a chaste kiss atop each eyelid, and chuckles. “Sorry. You’re still-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky insists, tone firm. “You just go to sleep, sweetheart.” He watches at Steve smiles and pulls the blankets over himself. Bucky sits up, reaching down to brush his fingers through his boyfriend’s short hair, waiting until he’s sure the man is asleep before gently getting off the bed and padding into the bathroom.
He turns on the shower and steps inside, ignoring the cold water and reaching down to jerk himself off. He grits his teeth as thoughts of Steve drift off to thoughts of Steve’s ignorant mother and distant father, grunting as he goes soft. “Fuck,” he curses, leaning against the shower wall. She wants me to wear a dress, Steve had said. A fucking dress. Like Steve hasn’t been working hard to change himself, his body. Over just the last couple years soft curves had turned into hard lines, which Steve molded into powerful muscles. He weighs twice as much as he used to, and Bucky thinks he’s more gorgeous than ever-but he’s not foolish enough to think that Steve thinks the same. Especially not with his mother calling every week, begging him to go to this or that, wear some new dress she’d bought for him-bought for her daughter, who no longer exists. She only has Steve, has only ever had Steve but she still doesn’t realize that.
Bucky snarls as angry tears join the shower spray, and he realizes his hands are fists, nails cutting into his palm. He punches the shower wall, feeling the anger dissipate slightly, but it doesn’t help things. It doesn’t help Steve, who’s probably only pretending to be asleep in the other room. Bucky falls to the shower floor, biting his bottom lip to stop from making any noise as tears continue to fall down his face.
-
Steve wakes to an empty bed, but hears popping noises coming from the kitchen, quickly followed by a lovely smell permeating the air. He grabs the nearest pair of boxers and pulls them on-he notes the teddy bear design with a smile and knows it’s Bucky’s-not bothering with the binder. Steve doesn’t give a damn and he knows Bucky prefers him without it. He pushes himself out of bed and pads into the kitchen, where Bucky’s frying up bacon. He moans appreciatively and presses himself to Bucky’s back, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s smaller, slightly chubby tummy. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you make breakfast?”
Bucky hums. “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits? I’d kiss them right now but I’ve got bacon grease on my face. Because I’m a mess.”
“You’re definitely a mess,” Steve laughs, slapping his stomach playfully. He leans down to perch his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder and whispers, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you kissing them later. But-oh shit. I have work.”
“No, you don’t.”
Steve frowns. “What did you do?”
Bucky grins. “I called in. You have strep throat and you’re gonna be out for the rest of the week. Don’t worry. You can pay me back with cupcakes and multiple blowjobs.”
“You wish!” Steve scoffs, but he’s delighted, feels so much lighter. He’s content to watch as Bucky replaces the bacon with new strips, but something’s missing. “Hey, did you make-” He’s interrupted by a loud ding as the toaster pops up, revealing two honey-brown waffles. Steve sniffs dramatically. “I think you’re my soulmate.”
Bucky nods. “Damn straight.”
Steve draws light designs on Bucky’s stomach, contemplating. He nuzzles into Bucky’s neck after a moment and murmurs, “I love you.”
Bucky bites his lip, then turns off the stove. He turns to face Steve, takes his face into his hands and stares into his eyes. “I love you too, sweetheart.” Steve leans forward to kiss him so quickly and emphatically that Bucky falls backwards, almost tipping over the pan but Steve catches him at the last moment. Bucky laughs, throws his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, and returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. The bacon can wait.