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Bucky knew that something was wrong. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Steve was coming home later every night. Dragging in long after dinner was served and eaten. Alone. Again.
The conversations between them had become stilted, when they actually did talk. Most of the time it was just silence. Bucky would be on the couch with a book or watching TV, leaving plenty of space for Steve to join him. But it never happened anymore. Steve would sit in the chair adjacent with paperwork spread over the coffee table, laptop open. Or even worse, at his desk in the office. Away from Bucky.
Bucky had stopped trying to capture his attention. It hurt too much to be rebuffed time and again. All the times he had stepped up behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his chest and kissed him lightly on the neck, only to be told, “Not now Buck. I’m busy.”
Those times hurt the worst. It made Bucky feel as though he’d lost all importance in Steve’s life. Bucky would retreat to the bedroom and wait the interminable hours until Steve came to bed. Collapse is more like it. Never touching Bucky.
Then Steve would get up in the morning, get ready for work, give Bucky a cursory kiss goodbye and leave for God knew how many hours.
On more than one occasion lately, Bucky had spent the morning crying after Steve had left. And Steve never knew.
Bucky spent far too many hours contemplating what to do. Talking about the situation, being frank in what he needed, didn’t amount to much. Things would either change for a day or Bucky would be dismissed with a harsh, “You know I’m busy. Work takes a lot of my time.” Bucky would duck his head to hide his tears and reply, “I understand.”
He never really did understand though. Steve had quit talking to him. About anything. They didn’t even talk baseball anymore.
It was time to take back control of his own life.
He desired the companionship that had gone by the wayside. All they were at this point was roommates. Sleeping in the same bed. So maybe he might go in search of that companionship.
Even the thought of that made his stomach churn. Bucky only wanted that from Steve. But he wasn’t getting it. And that made him mad. After all the talks, all the pleading, all the silence, all the waiting, he was done. Either Steve wanted him in his life or he didn’t. Time to find out.
For the first time since they had moved in together, Bucky wasn’t there when Steve got home. “Bucky? Where are you?” Steve hollered into the empty apartment. But no answer was forthcoming. Moving into the kitchen Steve found a note on the table. It simply said, “Be back later.”
Steve took his phone out of his pocket to text Bucky.
<Where are you?>
Bucky’s reply was short, sweet, and to the point.
>Out<
Steve frowned at the screen. This wasn’t like Bucky.
<I’m home>
>Good for you<
What the hell was going on? What had happened to his sweet Bucky? This wasn’t like him at all.
<Want me to come join you? Where are you?>
>No. I’m out.<
<Bucky? Baby what’s wrong?>
Steve waited, and waited for a reply.
<Bucky?>
Again he waited. But there was no answer. Steve sighed in defeat. He knew he had a long night in front of him.
Bucky hadn’t been doing anything nefarious. Nothing that could further damage an already tenuous relationship. He was simply sitting in a diner not far from their apartment reading his paperback. Alone.
His phone had continued to blow up with messages from Steve that he never replied to. They got harder to ignore as the night went on. But he wanted Steve to be on the receiving end of the silence. To know the empty feeling it left behind.
Unfortunately, it gave him too much time to think. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. Steve could decide their relationship, Bucky, wasn’t worth fighting for. Maybe he was giving Steve an easy out. A way to end things without having to take responsibility. Ultimately he had to have an answer though.
He stayed until well after midnight. Walking back to their apartment, he contemplated his next step. It was a risk. One he had to take.
Bucky opened the apartment door as silently as possible. He turned to shut and lock it, trying not to wake Steve. He wasn’t ready for a knock down drag out of a fight. He was just tired. Tired of it all.
Steve’s light snoring reached his ears. Of course Steve was asleep. Bucky hadn’t really expected or wanted anything else. It hurt none the less. Didn’t even stay up and wait for me, he thought. Make sure I’m ok. That spoke volumes to Bucky.
He toed off his shoes at the door and put his keys in the bowl on the table. Hanging up his jacket, his shoulders slumped on a sigh. Ok, next step, he thought.
Bucky silently trudged down the hallway. He paused at their bedroom door, just watching Steve sleep. His heart breaking a little more at the sight of the man he loved. It would be so easy to slip in bed behind him and cuddle up. Breathe in the scent of him. But things wouldn’t change if he did.
They’d continue down this path that made Bucky desperately unhappy. With Steve never realizing what it was doing to Bucky. Because obviously the words weren’t enough.
Bucky bit back a sob trying to escape his throat and turned to the spare bedroom door. Once inside he stripped his clothes and crawled into bed. The bed that was cold and too big with only one man to occupy it. He knew he wouldn’t sleep well, if at all, that night.
Bucky didn’t get up to see Steve off to work the next morning. In a way it wasn’t even that hard. Steve had gotten to the point that Bucky was barely a distraction in the mornings. The quick kiss to his cheek more of an afterthought. Bucky could do without it.
What had happened, Bucky asked himself. Where had it gone wrong? Their relationship had always been tactile. Touching a shoulder on the way through a room. A kiss on the top of the head. Arms around his waist from behind while making dinner. Holding hands while sitting on the sofa.
Now? Now he was lucky if Steve even acknowledged he was in the room. Bucky missed the closeness they had shared. The sex had been spectacular. Now it was mediocre at best. If it happened at all.
Forget completely making love.
Bucky peeled himself out of bed reluctantly to get ready for work. He entered the kitchen in search of that fortifying cup of coffee. Lord knows he couldn’t think without it. The note he had left the night before was still laying on the table. Only now there was a new message scrawled beneath it.
“Will you be home tonight?”
Nothing more.
Bucky hesitated only a moment before picking up the pen to write a reply.
“I don’t know.”
Bucky left the apartment feeling a hundred pounds heavier.
Bucky stayed at work long after everyone else had gone home. Gone home to people that loved them. But not him. He stayed and tried to focus on the job at hand. Sometime after eight his phone buzzed. Bucky knew who it was without even looking.
<Where are you?>
Bucky wanted to scream.
>Out.<
<When are you going to be home?>
>In awhile.<
<K>
When the stilted reply popped up on his screen Bucky gave in to the urge and screamed long and loud into the empty office space. Then the irrational thought crossed his mind. If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Nobody was around to hear Bucky scream.
This night followed the last when Bucky got home. Home. That was a laugh.
Their lives continued to follow this pattern. Conversing only through hastily written notes left on the kitchen table. Sharp texts that answered nothing.
The upside was that Bucky was getting a lot done at work. And he hadn’t had to cook for a week. Cook a meal that may or may not be eaten.
The downside was that he missed Steve. Missed him with everything he was. He didn’t know how Steve was feeling about all of this because he never said. He never talked to Bucky. It seemed to Bucky that Steve was ok with just texts. Never trying to reach out to Bucky for more.
I guess that’s your answer then, he thought.
Bucky had been deep into his own head, so it took him by complete surprise when his phone rang that night. Steve’s name popping up on his screen.
“Hello?”
“Bucky? When are you coming home?”
Ok, so no beating around the bush. “Later,” he answered.
Steve’s sigh was loud in his ears. “Why won’t you come home?”
Steve was finally asking the question he should have asked a week ago. But Bucky couldn’t back down now. Too much was at stake.
“Why should I Stevie?”
At the sharp inhale of breath, Bucky realized he hadn’t used the nickname in awhile. Bucky had been remiss too.
“Because I miss you, Buck. I haven’t seen you in a week.”
Steve’s voice sounded broken. Like he was hurting. Bucky didn’t want him hurting. Especially since he was the one that caused it. But he couldn’t give in. Not yet.
Swallowing roughly he played his last card. “You’ll be fine without me. If I had to learn to be ok without you then you can learn to be ok without me.” He hung up the phone.
Immediately it started ringing again. Bucky couldn’t bring himself to answer. It stopped only to start again. And again. And again. Then there was a beep for a message. A message he didn’t listen to. Not yet. He couldn’t answer yet. The lesson had to stick or Bucky had to leave. There were no other options.
His phone continued to ring throughout the evening. Bucky didn’t go home that night.
Bucky slipped through their apartment door well after Steve should have been at work. He had stayed at his own job until everyone had started arriving for the day. Then he begged off sick and went home.
He wasn’t far off from being sick. Heartsick was a thing, right?
Bucky’s head hung low as he repeated his ritual at the door. Keys. Shoes. What he didn’t expect was to be roughly pushed up against the door by a desperate Steve Rogers. To be kissed to within an inch of his life.
Gasping for air and completely in shock, his addled brain could only come up with one stupid question. “What was that for?” he whispered.
“God damn I’ve missed you Bucky. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me,” came the ragged response.
Time to lay it all out on the table. Now or never. “Why shouldn’t I Steve? You haven’t seemed to care whether I’m here or not. At least until I wasn’t.”
“I know. I know.”
“Do you really? Do you really know how you’ve made me feel?” he asked, letting the pain color his words.
“I know. You’ve told me. More than once,” Steve sighed.
“Told you what more than once?” He needed to hear the words. Needed to know that Steve understood.
“That you’re lonely. That you miss me. But I didn’t really understand. How could you miss me when I’m right here? It didn’t make sense to me.”
Bucky held his breath. He couldn’t stop Steve now. He couldn’t interrupt the words he needed to hear.
“Then I had to spend a week with you just out of my reach. You were here, but you weren’t.” Steve took a deep breath and continued. “I took you for granted Sweetheart. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
Bucky couldn’t help himself at that. “I told you Steve. I told you. And all you could tell me was that you were busy at work. Do you know how that made me feel? Like I was just something convenient when you wanted it. When you wanted to play house,” he yelled.
Tears started to roll down Steve’s cheeks. His voice broken. “So, since I didn’t listen to your words you decided to show me what I was doing to you. And I deserved it. All of it.”
Bucky couldn’t take the wretchedness of it anymore. He reached out and pulled Steve tight against him. Holding him like he himself desired to be held.
Steve was sobbing in earnest. His hands fisted tightly against Bucky’s back. “Please don’t leave me. How much I love you hit me like a damn freight train. Don’t leave me Bucky. I love you. I love you.”
“Shh. Shh Stevie. It’ll be ok. We’ll be ok,” Bucky crooned. And yet he still wasn’t sure in his words. Would they be okay?
Bucky didn’t know how long they stood there. Steve in Bucky’s arms. Giving himself completely over to Bucky. When Steve’s sobs became soft whimpers, Bucky gently pushed him away to look at him. “We’re not done with this conversation, but I’m putting it on hold for now,” he said quietly.
Steve nodded once in understanding. Bucky ushered him to the sofa and made him sit. Steve reached out for him when Bucky didn’t immediately sit too. “I’ll be right back Baby. I promise I’m not going far.”
Bucky returned to sit with Steve. He handed him a damp washcloth and a shot of whiskey. Steve gave a strained huff of a laugh but accepted the offering.
“Where do we go from here Bucky?”
Bucky thought how to phrase this correctly. It had to be right. “We wipe the slate clean. If you want to. We hit the reset button and start over before any of this shit happened. I’m willing to let this go but some things have gotta change.”
“I know,” Steve sighed. “I’ve let myself become too consumed with work. I took it for granted that you’d be here. I didn’t even realize how bad it had gotten.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something but Steve halted him with a raised hand. “I know you told me. But I was too selfish to see what I was doing. I only thought about me. That’s no way to run a relationship.” Steve hung his head, the shame radiating off him. “I’ll do better Sweetheart. I’ll treat you like you deserve.”
“This isn’t all about me Honey. I’m not going to deny that I felt neglected and dismissed. I didn’t know how to give you what you needed either. All I knew was that you didn’t need me.”
“This last week showed just how much that’s not true. I guess I needed to be reminded.” Steve took a shaky breath and tipped his head back. “Harsh though.”
Bucky reached out to take Steve’s hand in his own. The look of remorse apparent on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to get the answer I needed. Whether you wanted me here or not. I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have played games.”
“Clean slate, remember?” Steve gave a lopsided grin, halfhearted at best. “I don’t blame you. But, God, I don’t ever want to hurt like that again.”
“Me either,” came the softly spoken words.
Steve sat up straight and turned to face Bucky fully. He watched as Steve searched his face, cataloging every feature. “I’m going to kiss you now. If that’s ok with you.”
“Sooo ok,” he breathed.
Bucky watched as Steve’s hands came up to gently cup his face. There was such reverence in his touch. Steve’s eyes never left Bucky’s face. “Fuck I’ve missed you. I love you. I love you,” he whispered.
Falling a little forward Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him in. “I love you too. Now kiss me. Please.”
“Happy to comply.”
Then there were those gorgeous lips on Bucky’s own. Soft and tender. It was a promise Bucky could feel. A promise Bucky needed. He only hoped he could return it just as much.
Bucky woke to a hand on his chin, turning his face. Steve bent over him. For the first time in months he was being kissed good and proper before Steve went to work. “I won’t be late tonight. I promise. How about we go out to dinner? Think about where you want to go.”
“Stevie we don’t have to do that. It’s all good,” he said with a voice full of sleep.
“Yeah we do. We haven’t been out in a long time. I’m gonna change that.”
“Ok, if you insist. Any time I don’t have to cook it’s a good thing,” he giggled.
“See you tonight, Sweetheart.”
With that, Steve was gone for the day.
The morning was spent in quiet contemplation. They had talked all through the day and long into the night. Some parts of it were hard to get out. Other parts even harder to hear.
Bucky had told Steve how he had felt like an afterthought. Like nothing more than a housekeeper. Someone to keep Steve’s life in order only to be dismissed like the hired help. He told him how much he missed simple touch. Felt like he just existed. Not really living.
Steve had told him through his tears how much it had hurt him to realize he could lose all of this. The slap in the face knowing what he did. How much he had damaged what they had. Knowing it was all his own fault.
There were promises made by both of them. Promises to be more aware. Promises to work harder on the relationship. Promises of love. Love not gone, but evolved.
Bucky knew he had to get out of bed and get ready for work himself. He stretched languidly, feeling every inch of the pleasant ache in his body. A small smile crept to his face remembering why the ache was there. Steve had made long slow love to him like he hadn’t done in months. Like he used to. Taking him apart piece by piece only to put him back together again. For the first time in a long time he felt cherished.
The ringing of Bucky’s phone on the dresser startled him. Pulling his shirt over his head he reached to answer it. Seeing Steve’s name on the screen made him hesitate. He didn’t like the feeling that started low in his gut. Making bile rise in his throat.
Was he calling to cancel? Had work gotten in the way again?
“Hello?” he said stiffly.
“Hey Sweetheart. I’m running a little late. Can you get us a table? I’ll meet you there.”
“Steve,” Bucky whispered. This is it, he thought.
“No! Just no! I’ve already left the office. I just need to make a stop first.” Bucky could hear the worry in Steve’s voice. “I promise.”
Bucky let out a deep breath, trying to will himself to relax. Is this how it was always going to be now? Was he always going to be afraid?
“Ok. Yeah. Alright,” he stuttered.
“I love you. Remember that.”
“I love you too Stevie. I’ll see you soon.”
Bucky hung up the phone and tried to quell the churning in his gut. All it had taken was that one phrase from Steve and his world had turned upside down again. For a moment all the promises had been forgotten.
He hadn’t realized just how hard it was going to be to trust again. But he had to learn. Wiping the slate clean was going to be more difficult than he thought.
The waiting had seemed interminable. But in reality it was only ten minutes before Steve slid into the chair opposite of him. Bucky’s smile was both bright and relieved. Steve had an incandescent glow about him.
Reaching out his hand he presented Bucky with a single red rose. Bucky could feel his face flame from the heat of his blush. He reached out and took it, pressing it to his nose, inhaling the scent. “You haven’t given me a rose since our second date,” he murmured.
“And it’s long overdue,” Steve whispered. “I want to give you all the good things,” he continued. “All the things I let go by the wayside in my complacency.”
“You don’t have to. I’m just happy you’re here.”
Steve straightened up and squared his shoulders. “I’m gonna do it anyway. So get used to it.”
“Hope I never do.”
Life settled into a pleasant routine. One that was there before. Steve was still occasionally late. That was just the nature of his job. The biggest difference though was that once Steve crossed the threshold to their apartment, work was left at the door.
The touches returned. Sometimes soft and gentle. Sometimes rougher, displaying the deep-seated desire thrumming through both of them.
Unfortunately Bucky had gotten used to it again. He thought it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him when the dynamic started to shift yet again. Steve was becoming more distracted. He was still engaged in the here and now, but something was off.
Sitting in their favorite bar on a Friday night, Bucky could feel the tension radiating off of Steve. He watched as Steve continued to fidget in his chair.
“What’s wrong Steve?” Bucky asked.
Steve’s gaze snapped to Bucky’s face. His expression held something Bucky couldn’t identify. This is a first, he thought.
“Uh, nothing. Nothing,” he stammered.
Bucky saw that for the lie it was. “We can go if you want. It’s no big deal,” Bucky stated. Although it felt like a big deal in the making. He just didn’t know why.
“No!” Steve responded quickly. “No. My mind is just someplace else is all. Let me go get us another drink.” With that, Steve rose from the table quickly. Bucky was left staring at Steve’s retreating back as he headed to the bar.
“What the hell?” Bucky muttered to himself.
Out of his periphery Bucky saw a man approach the table. He looked up startled when he stopped in front of Bucky.
“Looks like you’re having a rough time of it,” the man started.
“Uh...”
“How about you let me take you out of here. Away from whatever that fuckface has done to you,” the man stated simply.
Bucky bristled at the comment. He sat up straighter in his chair and squared his shoulders. But before he could get out the biting comment forming in his brain, two glasses were slammed down on the table. Bucky looked up to see a truly irate Steve Rogers standing threateningly close to this unnamed man.
“Back off Jackass,” Steve hissed. “That’s my fiancé you’re talking to.”
Bucky’s eyes shot wide and his mouth hung open, staring at Steve. It must have been both a comical and unflattering look.
The man shrugged. “Then treat him better.” Bucky didn’t even bother with a glance as the man turned and walked away.
“Steve?” Bucky whispered.
Steve flopped himself into his chair, running a hand through his hair at the same time. The gusty sigh that followed told Bucky that Steve was trying to order his words. “I didn’t mean it to go like this,” he muttered lowly.
“Mean what to go like this?” Bucky was beyond confused. And it apparently showed on his face.
“I know I’ve been distracted the last couple of weeks. But it’s not what you think Bucky. I promise it’s not what you think.”
“I don’t understand Stevie. I’m a little lost here.” And he truly was. He knew this was the something big he’d felt earlier. He still couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
Steve slowly reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a small black box. Sighing heavily again, he started, “I’ve been carrying this around for a couple of weeks, waiting for the right time. But it never seemed the right time.”
Bucky could do nothing but stare at Steve. A dawning realization started to hit. Was this what he thought it was?
“I love you Bucky. Everything we’ve been through made me see just how much.” Steve looked down at the box in his hand and slowly opened it. Capturing Bucky’s hand in his own, he gazed longingly at Bucky. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Let me have you forever?” Steve asked.
There was a light in Steve’s eyes but the fear of a wrong answer shadowed over them. Bucky’s heart felt like it was going to explode. A thousand emotions raced through his body causing him to falter in his reply.
Steve started to withdraw his hand. That one small action jolted Bucky out of his confused stupor. He refused to let Steve’s hand go.
“I love you Stevie. Yes! Yes I want to marry you too!” he almost shouted. Then he did let Steve’s hand go, but only to quickly reach across the table and grab Steve by the shirt. Kissing him through Steve’s laughter, he did shout this time. “Yes!”
Steve made Bucky sit back in his chair and slowly removed the ring from its box. Taking Bucky’s shaking hand, he gently slid the ring on. The white gold with its single stone setting glittered in the dim light. Steve placed one soft, barely there kiss on it to seal the promise.
Looking at Bucky, then down at the ring on his hand, Steve said with a whisper, “I love you Bucky. I shoulda put a ring on it sooner.”