Bathtime

Bathing had been a struggle for Bucky from the beginning. After everything he had been through with HYDRA- over seventy years of torture and brainwashing- it only made sense that he would be hesitant and scared around new people and in a new environment. Therefore, understandably, it had taken weeks for Bucky to feel comfortable enough to even take his shirt off around Steve, much less strip down completely for a bath. So, for a while, Bucky's baths consisted of the ex-assassin sitting in a tub full of water with his lower half completely covered, pants still on. It wasn’t the most conventional of bathing methods, but it was enough to make Steve happy.

But, thankfully, things eventually improved. After a while, Bucky was able to sit in the bath completely nude, and Steve trusted him enough to leave him alone in the bathroom, giving him more privacy. They had finally gotten bath time down… or so Steve assumed.

This was challenged when Bucky entered the living room one evening, soaking wet and wrapped in a towel, a trail of water left behind him on the floor. His head was tilted towards the floor, water droplets running down his long hair and dripping onto the hardwood beneath him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously and fidgeted with his hand.

Steve set down his book and looked at him with a tender smile, trying to look as inviting as possible. Something was clearly amiss. Bucky had never come to Steve after a bath without being fully clothed. He liked his privacy, which Steve always tried his best to respect, although it would be a lie to say the blonde didn’t get a little anxious when Bucky stayed in the restroom longer than usual. So seeing his friend in this state was startling, to say the least. “Hey, Buck. You alright?” Steve asked, keeping his voice low and his tone neutral.

Bucky briefly made eye contact with the blonde before looking back down to the floor, one of the tell-tale signs that he wanted to ask a question but was scared to. Steve had seen it many times before. Like when Bucky was still hungry after his first serving of dinner, or the television was too loud, or when he wanted time alone. He might not speak much, but his body language was loud enough that he didn’t need to. Still, Steve couldn’t help but feel deep sorrow for his friend. The fact that Bucky would sometimes be so scared to speak that he visibly trembled kept Steve awake at night, wondering what exactly had been done to the poor guy when he was under HYDRA’s control. Sometimes he wondered if it was better not to know.

Steve did his best to keep his composure outwardly. Bucky continued to fidget uncomfortably where he stood, glancing from the floor to the bathroom occasionally.

“Would you like my help with something?” Steve asked softly. 

Bucky nodded. “Could you help me… wash my hair?” he whispered and closed his eyes, waiting for a response. He looked like a puppy who thought it was about to be kicked with the way he cowered.

“Yeah, of course, Buck. It must be pretty hard to do with only one arm, huh?” Steve walked over to Bucky as he spoke, then placed a gentle hand on the soldier's back. Physical touch is good, but only from Steve were Bucky’s words to his therapist. Well, that's what the therapist had told Steve at least. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.”

Once in the bathroom, Steve saw that the oversized bathtub was full of sudsy water. It was a somewhat relieving sight, considering how most other forms of hygiene had been hard for Bucky to handle. He almost always forgot to wash his hand, even when it was covered in food or marker or anything else messy, and brushing his teeth continued to be a struggle. Still, he was improving, even if he only brushed every other day and needed Steve by his side the entire time. At the very least, it was good to know that Bucky was able to use body wash all on his own.

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the foot that stepped into the bath, which was quickly followed by the other as Bucky sat down in the warm water. He looked towards Steve with an expression full of nervousness. He had trusted Steve enough to be vulnerable around him before, but this was on a different level. It was nothing like asking for help carrying something or asking for a few more pieces of bacon during breakfast. No, he had come to Steve, asked a question, asked for help, and was now sitting nude in front of him, allowing the blonde to touch his body. It had to be terrifying for Bucky.

“You’re okay, pal. It's just me,” Steve reassured. Bucky seemed to relax a little at his words. Reassurance is good.

Bucky looked away, grabbed the bottle of shampoo, handed it to Steve, then turned from the blonde and laid his head back on the edge of the bathtub. It was his way of saying he was ready without having to speak. Again, Bucky’s body language never lied.

Steve turned the handheld showerhead on a gentle flow and soaked Bucky's half-dried hair. He then carefully combed his fingers through the brunette strands, making sure to rid it of any tangles.

When he was ready for the shampoo, he made sure to check in with Bucky. “Everything still good, Buck?” he asked, studying his friend's face. When Bucky nodded, Steve felt like he was actually telling the truth. Most of the time when Steve asked about Bucky's wellbeing, Bucky would say he was fine even if his face was telling a completely different story.  Sometimes he would be crying and still nod at the question. This time, however, his expression matched his answer. For the first time in a long time, Bucky looked at ease. His eyes were closed, his brows weren’t furrowed, and he held a neutral expression instead of a frown. He almost looked like the same Bucky Steve had known during childhood. Energetic, full of life, adventurous, brave, daring, everything Steve could have only wished to be before the serum.

Before he dug too far into old memories, Steve opened the shampoo bottle and squeezed a good amount into his hand. “Shampoo time,” he said, keeping Bucky informed as to not startle him with his touch. Steve rubbed his hands together, spreading the shampoo, then started combing the peach-scented substance into the brunette hair with his fingers. At this, Bucky let out a breath and some of the tension left his shoulders. And as time went on, it seemed that the longer Steve lathered the soldier's hair with shampoo, the more relaxed he became. 

As Bucky felt the stong, calloused hands messaging his scalp, he let out a small sigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed someone else's touch this much. It was soothing-- safe, even. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t remember exactly what, which wasn’t that shocking. There were many things the asset was supposed to remember but couldn’t no matter how hard he tried.

The sound of steady breaths and content sighs filled Steves heart with more joy than he could describe. Seeing Bucky so relaxed was refreshing, considering how anxious he seemed to be all of the time nowadays. Steve couldn’t help but relish at the moment. Finally, his poor, battered friend could enjoy a moment of peace.

That was until Bucky’s breath deepened and he let out a moan.

The noise caught Steve off guard. He froze, stunned. That was definitely not a noise he had ever heard Bucky make before. It was deep, genuine. 

It almost sounded- 

There was no way that simply having his hair washed had- 

Right?

Steve's suspicions were only confirmed when he glanced down at the rest of Bucky’s body and saw his… situation . He quickly looked away, blushing. That was not something he ever expected to see. That was not something he was ever supposed to see.

Of course, it made sense that Bucky’s body would react this way after decades of being beaten and bruised, having no source of affection. It had been years since he had been touched so gently and with such care. Still, that didn’t make it any less awkward for the blonde, especially considering Bucky hadn’t seemed to notice. His eyes were still closed and he was relaxed, although his face was a bit redder now. It looked like he was half asleep.

What was Steve supposed to do? Should he let Bucky know? Should he continue washing his hair and act like nothing happened?  The latter seemed like a good option considering this was the first time since Bucky had arrived that he relaxed, but Steve wasn’t sure. Would that be taking advantage of Bucky in some way? Sure, he wasn’t doing anything to him, but should he be touching him in such a vulnerable state, especially if Bucky was unaware? No, it just didn’t seem right. It would be violating.

Steve removed his hands from Bucky’s hair and placed one of them on Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, Buck,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down Bucky’s shoulder in a comforting motion. Luckily, it was enough to get the brunette's attention. 

Bucky’s face scrunched in discomfort before he opened his eyes. He squinted up at Steve. He looked dazed for a moment before his eyes shot open with a startled breath and he sat up quickly. 

Steve watched as Bucky looked down at himself. The poor guy's brows were furrowed, not in anger, but in confusion. He sat staring down for a good while- eyes scanning over himself- before Steve finally spoke up. “You alright?”

Bucky grimaced and his lip trembled a bit. He closed his eyes tightly, causing the tears that had built in them to fall. “Sorry,” he whispered. In reality, the apology was so quiet that it could have been easily missed, but to Steve, it sounded like shouting.

“No, no, no, it's alright. Really, it is,” Steve said, trying to reassure his friend, “It’s normal, don’t worry. I don’t mind.”

Bucky put his legs together and covered his face with his hand, clearly embarrassed.

Steve let out a small sigh. “Here, let me rinse the shampoo out of your hair, then we’ll be done. Sound good?”

Bucky moved his hand away from his face and nodded slowly.