Steve inhaled the crisp scent of a pumpkin pie candle. He hummed a tune to himself. However, a tall eerie figure soon stood over him. He glanced up from the book he was reading. “Hi baby,” he smiled, “everything okay?”
Bucky shifted uncomfortably. His pale face turned a deep shade of pink. “M’ hungry…” he mumbled, staring at his feet.
Steve placed a bookmark in the novel he was reading to hold his place— who knew learning how to plant a garden could be so interesting. “Okay. I can make you one of those Italian sandwiches you used to like? Or we can get takeout and—”
Tears welled up in Bucky’s baby blues. “N-No, daddy. Want milk.”
Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach. He despised it when Bucky referred to him as daddy, because the word only represented abuse and what his lover’s mind was conditioned to think for years. Why, if he could he’d murder Rumlow with his own two hands. “Stevie, baby, remember?” He gently reminded.
Bucky frowned. He nodded slowly. “R-Right. Sorry dad— um, Stevie.” A tear reached the bottom of his chin. He propped himself on his knees, between the Captain’s legs. He began to nuzzle his crotch with his nose.
Steve tensed. “Woah, hey baby,” he said, moving slightly back, “how about we get you some real food if you’re hungry? I’ll even take you to that Chinese restaurant that’s an hour away if you’d like?”
Bucky shook his head and blinked up at him with doe eyes. He moved closer to his lover’s crotch, and began to untie his sweatpants. “Milk, sir.”
Steve sucked in sharply. He placed a hand on Bucky’s, preventing the broken soldier from going any further. “Buck, I know this is what you think you need, but it’s not good for you. Rumlow was—” his boyfriend flinched at the name, “sorry, honey. He was wrong in his ways, so we have to keep trying to break you from them, okay?”
More tears raced down Bucky’s face. He shook his head more aggressively. “No! Please let me have my milkies. ‘M hungry daddy!” He pulled down Steve’s sweatpants in a hurry, which earned him a swat on the hand.
”James Buchanan!” Steve exasperated. “Do not do that. You know better.” Instantly, the captain regretted his actions when his boyfriend broke down into a sobbing mess. “Sweetheart,” he sang, pulling up his pants and then sitting beside him, “it’s alright. I’m not mad at you. But when I say no, I mean no.”
Bucky buried his face in Steve’s shoulder. He wept, like the rain meeting the sea. “W-Why did he have to make me t-this way, Stevie? ‘M tired of bein’ a freak. Feel so… dirty.”
Steve’s throat tightened. “Oh my love.” He kissed his damp cheek. “You are not a freak. He just confused you, but you’re getting better. You didn’t ask me for a “milkshake” this morning, did you?”
A beat. Then Bucky mumbled an unsure “no”.
”Exactly. That’s progress, honey. You’re doing so much better now that you’re mine again. The healing process takes time.” Steve kissed his baby’s forehead. “You’ll never have to starve again as long as you’re here.” He laughed. “I think Natasha would have my head on a stick if she found out I weren’t feeding you properly.”
Bucky sniffled. He wiped his nose. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He whispered.
”Because you were nice to me when I was sick, so now it’s time I repay the favor,” Steve lifted his chin with his finger, “and because I love you, Buck. Have since 1945.”
Bucky faintly smiled. “Love you too, Steve.” He leaned in to kiss his longtime lover, but quickly pulled away when his stomach growled. He looked to the blonde with panic in his eyes.
“Would you like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? You used to love those when my ma would make them for us.” Steve asked, studying the brunette’s face. “No? Well, how about spaghetti? Spaghetti nights were always our fav—”
”Please,” Bucky whispered, unable to fight it today, “milk, sir.”
Steve stared into the wet blue eyes that bedeviled him. There were days Bucky would have stellar progress, and then there were days he couldn’t go a moment without thinking about it. Days he would have panic attacks until he got what he “needed”. Days like today. The captain pressed their foreheads together, sighing. “If I give you this, you promise to eat a real snack before we sleep tonight?”
Bucky nodded cautiously. “Yes, I- I will try.” He promised.
A tear rolled down Steve’s cheek. He breathed out slowly. “Alright baby,” he reluctantly agreed, “take what you need.” As his boyfriend positioned himself in-between his crotch, the blonde ran a gentle hand through his dark brown locks. “I’m gonna fix you, my love. I promise.”