Chapter Text
Bucky kept his eyes shut and tried to keep as naturally still as possible as Steve left their bed.
When they first moved in together Steve said they could have two beds and they didn’t need to share a bed. He wasn’t a egg* anymore, Buck, and he could handle cold nights on his own. Bucky had tried to keep to Steve’s wishes, he always tried to, but when he would wake from barely a click of sleep hearing Steve’s knees clack together, and his breath coming out in cold shivers he couldn’t do it and decided he was going to invade Steve’s bed and just never leave. Bucky’s been in Steve’s bed ever since even if Steve complains about him hogging the bed.
He opened his eyes slowly as he heard Steve slowly and lightly taping his fingers on the windowsill. It was near dawn, and Steve always loved waking up to see them. He told Bucky once that the glory of life could be described, measured, and seen by a sunrise. He always told Bucky he should wake up and see it with him.
Bucky always said no. What he never told him was that Bucky had his own dazzling experience to see right from their bed.
After a while Steve started humming, Bucky thinks Steve doesn’t even realize he does this, and he stopped tapping his fingers.
Bucky opened his eyes fully then because Steve was so in tuned to his routine he’d never realize that he was actually watching in this little magical moment.
With long fingers that have drawn and painted the most beautiful scenes and that have helped heal the sickest of plants, Steve slowly took off his dandelion robe.
Bucky’s breath hitched up for a moment and he had to make himself start to breathe normally or Steve would have caught on and he’d miss everything.
Steve was not broad or big in any sense of the word. His chest was small and concave and even from behind it wasn’t anything to speak of, but Bucky was mesmerized by that back and his waist. He knew if he wanted he could wrap both his hands around his waist and he could pick him up with no trouble at all. But what makes this back the most beautiful is his wings.
Steve took in a deep breath before he started slowly stretching his neck. Back and forth then all-around, back and forth then all-around, and on and on it went until Steve’s shoulders were less tense and his neck fully stretched.
Ever since he reached Maturity Age he hadn’t been allowed to touch Steve. He missed it dearly though. When they were younger Steve would get horrible cramps in his neck and back from having his wings tucked in all day and Bucky would be there to help massage and loosen those muscles right before Steve could stretch out his wings.
When his parents had found out about his Spells he was commanded to never touch Steve again. He had lived under his parent’s roof at the time and he wasn’t one to disobey an order even if he desperately wanted to. Now that they were living on their own Bucky had hoped that Steve would let him once again massage his neck and back like he used to. Steve hadn’t said a word on it and Bucky didn’t want to bring it up.
Now all Bucky could do was steal these moments as Steve slowly and gracefully opened up his wings. The morning light shone right through them showing through the beautiful light blue that were Steve’s wings. Bucky remembered that his wings weren’t all blue but had streaks of green near the veins that would seamlessly fade into blue.
Bucky watched as Steve let them uncurl and hang for just a moment before he let them start a lightly flapping.
If Bucky’s wings were flapping like Steve’s the whole room would feel it but Bucky’s were bigger, thicker, and stronger than Steve’s were. It showed at the small tears here and there on Steve’s wings.
Fairy children were cruel to those that didn’t assimilate.
Bucky never understood why Steve’s wings were considered ugly, hideous, and even deformed when all they were beautiful. They were so soft to the touch, and so beautiful to see when they were in full flight.
Steve never believed him but Bucky wished he had Steve’s wings instead of his. At least then all the barbs, and cruelty that Steve faced would fall on his shoulders and Steve could show the world how brilliant he really was with a good set of wings.
He never said any of this to Steve. Steve would think that he thought he was too weak and would throw a fit and would maybe never speak to him again.
Bucky just never wanted Steve to ever be hurt. It was a stupid and foolish wish, and one that was destroyed by fairies on a regular basis, but he still had it.
He closed his eyes as he heard Steve stop fluttering his wings. He would turn around soon then go and make breakfast. He didn’t need to know Bucky had been spying on his alone time.
Bucky listened to the soft footsteps leave the room and closed the door before he sighed. One day he was going to ask Steve about his feelings about him because if they weren’t the same as his there was going to be a problem and Bucky wasn’t sure if he could face it.
Tomorrow he promised himself. Tomorrow he’d ask and everything will be sorted out and okay.
He snorted at his thinking then buried himself into his pillow and dozed off until he heard Steve yell for breakfast.