How would your Bucky react to Steve being de-serumed? There are a ton of reactions-definitely body worship-but I imagine the aftermath with the avengers banging on his door like "Barnes we need to change him back" and Bucky just being like "fuck off I'm keeping him this way for at least a month" and all the while Steve is making loud high pitched breathy moans until it breaks off into a scream and the avengers scrambling away because they don't want to hear more.
i tried to write this last year! i didn’t finish it, though, but would you like to see it anyway
“Don’t look at me that way,” Steve says, sour, when Bucky comes in through the door.
Bucky leans against the wall. He doesn’t say anything; only stands there.
“Shut your mouth,” Steve says, but his voice comes out a little hoarse. “Flies are gonna get in.”
“Stevie,” Buck manages, and it rocks Steve all the way down to his toes. His voice is all wrong, too. “Stevie, c’mere.”
Steve’s not used to this anymore, somehow. He expects to be taller when he stands and he isn’t. The dull pain is the only thing that’s really familiar. His center of gravity is all off and he wants to cross his arms over his skinny chest. He doesn’t. “Stark said it’s any easy fix. Gonna wear off soon.” Buck’s still staring. Steve can’t take it. “Jesus, will you say something?”
Steve has to look up to see into his eyes. What a weird novelty. Bucky closes the distance and cups his hands around Steve’s face. His eyes are searching and dark. “Stevie,” he repeats. “God, all I can think is…”
“Must’ve lost it for real this time,” Bucky murmurs.
“Buck,” Steve says, and his heart hurts. He puts his hands, long fingers, all bony, over Bucky’s. “Bucky, hey, no. I’ll get out of here if it’s too much. I know it’s —“
“Shut up,” Bucky tells him. “Jesus Christ, look at you. I forgot…” His eyes are distant, and it makes Steve nervous, but he doesn’t move away when Buck starts to touch him, cupping his neck, studying his hands. “What hurts?” he asks. “Stevie, what hurts? Tell me, let me help, I know it’s gotta…”
“It’s fine, I told you,” Steve repeats. “Buck, look at me.”
“Can’t,” Bucky says, very simply. He’s got Steve’s hands in his own, and he’s looking there. There’s a smile at the corner of his mouth, and he looks up anyway. His eyebrows are drawn, but something about his face is happy. Steve doesn’t like to see him so conflicted. “Steve. Stevie. I love — Stevie, you know, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” says Steve, automatically, but also because it’s true. “Buck, what’s going on?”
It’s kind of a stupid question, Steve knows, but Bucky just looks down at him. Steve reaches up and pushes his hair back behind his ear for an excuse to keep touching him.
“We’re two lucky sons of bitches,” Bucky finally says. “We’re the two luckiest sons of bitches on planet Earth, I swear to God. Look at you. Look what I got. I haven’t done shit to deserve you, and look what I got.”
“No, shut up a minute. Listen.” He’s serious. “I don’t know why the chips fell this way but I’m glad they did. I love you, small like this or the size of a tree; however, I don’t care. Stevie, God damn, I love you.”
Steve’s never heard him say it that much in one sentence; Steve doesn’t know if he’s ever really heard him say it at all. And then Bucky’s kissing him, and so he doesn’t have to come up with a reply. He fists his hands in Bucky’s t-shirt, pulls it all out of shape. Bucky’s whole body bends over him. Steve feels very loved and very small. For the first time maybe ever he doesn’t hate the latter.
“You’re beautiful,” Bucky tells him, and presses his mouth sweet and open all over Steve’s jaw. He sounds drunk. “S’been a long time since I touched you like this, it’s been so long, Steve. Can I? Stevie, can I?”
and then this line, at some point, later:
“This was your big plan all along, wasn’t it?” Bucky murmurs, laughing. “You just wanted some dick, and you thought, what’s a surefire way —“
“Shut up,” Steve groans. “Barnes, Jesus God.”
