#sbb2020

"I have my sources," Steve replies with a sniff, like Bucky doesn't know that means Natasha.

"Well you and your sources are wrong," Bucky grumbles, and pointedly turns his attention back to the textbook spread out on the coffee table in front of them.

Because sure, maybe he's gone a little overboard with the petnames since he started dating Tony, but he's sure it's not that bad. He just... likes the way Tony always gets that pleased little curl to his smile, the way his eyes shine and the lightest flush rises in his cheeks.

"Prove it," Steve challenges, and then raises his voice to be heard over Bucky's loud sigh as he insists "Just call him his actual name and see what happens."

"If I do, can we please go back to studying?" Bucky whines, because he wants to be done with this already.

Steve's nose winkles, but he says "Fine. Be prepared to be proven embarrassingly wrong."

Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes, but leans back on the couch so he can see into the kitchen where Tony is set up at the table because 'I can't watch the two of you do math, I love you Buckaroo but it causes me actual physical pain.’ Sure, Steve had asked why Tony was even in their apartment to study then, but Bucky had just glared at him until he let it go.

There is no room for Steve and his pesky logic here, and the last thing Bucky wants is for Tony to go back to his own dorm.

Bucky gets maybe a little distracted just watching Tony frown at his own book as he blindly shoves potato chips into his mouth, because it's adorable, and when Steve elbows him he huffs and calls out "Hey Tony, can you bring me a drink next time you get up?"

Tony's head snaps up before Bucky is even halfway through the sentence, his eyes wide and panicked and his mouth full of chips as he demands "What'd you just call me?"

"Tony," Bucky repeats slowly, and does his best to ignore the fact that he can feel Steve already shaking with laughter beside him.

"Why?" Tony asks plaintively, apparently completely forgetting about his mouthful of food in favor of fixing Bucky with a distressed look that is somehow both heartbreaking and kind of hilarious. "Am I in trouble?" He asks when Bucky doesn't respond, and then his eyes widen a litte "What is today?!"

Bucky feels a fond smile growing on his face as Tony glances around the small kitchen, as if expecting to find a conveniently located calendar, and then frantically grabs for his phone to check the date.

"Baby," Bucky says, or tries to say, but the word gets caught in his chest along with a laugh and Tony whips his head up to stare at him again.

"Why did you call me Tony?" He asks again, a definite whine in his voice now, "What is it, what did I forget?!"

Bucky tries to respond, he really does, but all that comes out is a barely repressed laugh and when he glances over Steve has his bright red face buried in his hands and his entire body is shaking with his efforts not to crack up.

"Speak to me!" Tony wails from the kitchen, probably spewing crumbs everywhere because he still has a mouthful of food, but it's the wet shine to his eyes that has Bucky shoving himself up off the couch.

He quickly crosses the tiny apartment and leans down to wrap his arms around Tony, burying his face in Tony's messy hair. "I'm sorry sugar," he coos over Tony's continued confused noises,"It didn't mean anything, I swear doll face. I just... didn't realize I never call you that."

"I told you!" Steve crows from the next room.

"Shut up Steve," Bucky calls back, arms still wrapped tight around Tony even though it means he has to awkwardly hunch down over the kitchen chair, "this isn't about you anymore!"

"Yeah stuff it Steven, no one is talking to you!" Tony shouts back, clinging just as tightly to Bucky's arm over his chest and at least it sounds like he's finally swallowed all his chips.

For Bucky it had been years since he had met the slender, witty brunet who had since then occupied his mind. Bucky had, in his drunken stupor, not managed to ingrain the man’s name into his memory and despite them enjoying each other's company and bodies thoroughly, only three things remained with Bucky. One was the smaller man’s general build; slender and small but a hidden strength underneath. Another thing was the hazelnut colored hair, the texture soft and curly.

The last detail Bucky remembered was a mole. It was small, not very noticeable at first glance and if not for the placement Bucky most likely would have never seen it. For the mole was adorning the skin of the brunet’s hip bone, just shy of dipping into the more intimate path, precariously balanced between high enough to be seen in locker rooms and such, but low enough to encite wandering lips to explore even lower.

The next morning had found Bucky alone in his bed, not even a note left.When it was clear that he couldn’t remember much else of the one night stand, he pestered his best friend to draw what Bucky could tell him. At one point, one of those where he had complained that the mole just didn’t look right, Stevie had shoved the blond’s sketchbook against Bucky’s chest and ordered, “Do it yourself then!”

That had been the beginning of Bucky picking up Art. By now he was rather good, according to people who bought some pieces of him. The artist had no idea why they believed so because most of his drawings and sketches featured just one damn motive over and over.

Ever since that night, Bucky hadn’t been able to draw much else but that damn mole. Sighing, the artist looked at his latest sketch; another male chest and lower region adorned by various flowers and leaves, the focus easily drawn towards the mole.

“Will I ever find you?”, he wondered into the empty apartment he shared with Steve. ~~~ Bucky would never understand how Steve managed to trick him into attending Steve’s mostly boring life model classes with him. But here he was. The students for this class were acquaintances of Bucky, a few of them maybe even friends, like Natalia. Steve and he met with her for board game evenings on a semi regular basis.  They were all preparing their individual workplaces, when the door opened and the professor entered. She smiled at them all brightly before she announced in her very chipper way, “Everyone, good to see you again. This time it’s a real honor for us to have Doctor Stark pose as our model! Please, everyone welcome him and then let us set to work. For this class we have four weeks, two sessions a week, which, I admit, is rather short, but let’s try our best!” Bucky blinked. He was slightly confused as to why a man like Doctor Stark would sit down to be a model, especially for a naked life model class. A quick glance towards his best friend told him that Steve had no clue either.

Shrugging, Bucky tried to treat this class as any other, an opportunity to try to forget about the mole.

Doctor Stark was undressed and already positioned by the time Bucky had readied his workplace and taken his coal pen in hand. At first glance nothing was catching Bucky’s interest, at least not too much.

Yes the hair looked stylish and probably had more products in it than Bucky owned, and the chest was well toned, as were Doctor Stark’s arms. Bucky wouldn’t mind taking that man to bed. While his grey eyes roamed over the model, Bucky’s hand had started to sketch, until everything stopped.

For Bucky it felt as if time itself had stopped. His mouth was slightly agape. His heart thumped in his chest. Bucky’s mouth felt suddenly dry and he wished for just a moment to not have seen the man’s hip. Because there, right on the left side, not too low to be considered indecent if seen in a locker room but not high enough to be boring, sat a mole. The very same mole that had haunted Bucky for years now.

When his eyes snapped towards the man’s face, he saw the recognition, and the sly smirk playing on Stark’s lips. Flushing, Bucky resumed his work.

Later he would try to talk to Doctor Stark.

Later they would go out together.

Later, way down the road, they would become the Muse and the Artist to each other, exclusively.