Iris

“A little bit of pain is good for you. I feel alive. Everybody needs struggle. Once you overcome an obstacle, you springboard into the future. Life is interesting and short, and it’s not supposed to be easy, and if it is, you’re probably just in denial, and you’re existing here like a zombie.” —Pamela Anderson

Steve’s heart couldn’t bear much more. He had not yet conceived no matter how he prayed. 

Bucky tried to hide his disappointment, but Steve knew that he was. 

So, Steve decided to get a medical opinion. He’d always hated doctors. He hated being poked and prodded. He hated being diagnosed as faulty and flawed. 

It all seemed so hopeless. 

They couldn’t have a baby. 

They couldn't’ help but blame themselves. 

They were drifting apart as if an ocean of grief had swallowed them whole. What a strange thing to grieve something you never had. 

Steve didn’t know how to fix it, and maybe, Bucky didn’t know how to fix it either. Distraction was all they could do. 

So, Steve focused on work. He had one season left, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over. 

Over the radio, one of the directors called out, “Ned, can you punch in a drop.” 

Steve breathed through his nose as the camera focused on his ass. 

“That’s great,” the director said. 

The radio cackled with the next command. “A drop more wedgie, please, Katie?”

Steve hated how this always made him feel like an object. He stood perfectly still as one of the costume assistants adjusted his swimsuit. 

“Ah, too much. They’ll flag it,” one of the producers radioed. “A little less ass cheek.”

Steve exhaled as his swimsuit was adjusted again. 

Finally, the director was satisfied. “Perfect. Action!” 

“Action!” One of the producers repeated. 

Steve ran toward the ocean, trying not to think that the only thing the camera saw was his ass. 

“Cut,” the director finally called. 

Steve fixed his swimsuit. He didn’t pay attention to the crew getting busy for the next shot. Instead, he walked over to the director’s tent. 

“Hey, guys.” Steve smiled forcefully. Be the pretty, sweet Omega they all think you are . 

“Hey Stevie, what’s up?” The producer’s assistant asked. 

Steve hated anyone but his ma and Bucky calling him that. “I know we’re moving locations after the shot, but before we move, I want to get that monologue in from yesterday. You know the one? I think it’ll be a great option in post.” 

The director frowned. “Well, even if I want to, the actress isn’t here today.” 

“No, it’s not a problem. You can just shoot my side and cheat hers with a close-up from the arrest scene. The sight line will match up perfectly if you shoot me from the left. The camera’s all set up. I’m in the same wardrobe. Always am.” Steve shot them a stunning smile. “And I’ve got the whole thing memorized. I can nail it in two takes. I’ll be in my trailer. Just call me when you’re ready.”

But they never called. 

Steve was so fucking sick of it. He wanted to be more than just some ass, so he auditioned for one of the biggest upcoming movies.

“Steve!” Maria Hill was one of the top managers in the business. 

“Hey!” Steve stood and held out his hand. 

She shook his hand. “Good to meet you. Come with me.”

“You too. Thank you so much!” Steve couldn’t believe he was here. “God, I’m so excited.”

“Not half as excited as the studio,” Maria said. “It’s their number one priority for spring.”

“Wow, that’s great!” Steve grinned. 

“Normally, I managed three or four actors at at time, but for the next few months, I am on Captain America 24/7.” 

“So, what’s the plan?” Steve asked. 

“The plan?” Maria asked. She opened the door to her office which was filled with posters and merchandise. The plan is an all-out media blitz: tv, print, radio, cover stories, and morning shows. The whole schmear. Do you want some water or something to drink?”

Steve couldn’t believe it. He never expected to get the part. “Whew, I’m nervous.”

“Oh, please don’t be,” Maria said as she handed him a glass of champagne. “Every time I have a kickoff meeting with a client, I like to start by talking story.”

“Story?” Steve asked. 

“What is the story you want to tell?” She asked. 

Steve frowned. “I, uh, I—”

“Every PR campaign has a core central narrative,” Maria explained. “Redemption, resurrection, reinvention. Self-reflection, survival, love?”

“Right, that’s a lot of stories.” Steve bit his lip. 

“When you look at other people’s careers who do you look to?” She asked. 

“Oh, you mean who do I admire?” Steve hummed. 

“Who are your role models who do you aspire to take after?”

“That’s a good question. I guess I would have to say: Pamela Anderson.” 

Maria nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me why.”

“Well, she was always seen as an innocent yet desirable Omega, but then she became this huge sex symbol. It’s not that hard for Omegas… But she was a serious actress even if she couldn’t get the roles she deserved. And then there’s the activism. She’s passionate about everything she does. She’s a feminist and a sex object. And everyone called her out for it, ‘cause it’s hypocritical, right? But she didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit what people thought of her. You know that’s probably the most amazing thing about her. She didn’t worry what anyone thought; she never tried to please anybody.” Steve couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“That is a great narrative.” Maria smiled. “Freedom. Is that how you feel like, you have to please people?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s all I do.”

The show had finally wrapped which meant Steve was free for the rest of the holidays. He wouldn’t be filming Captain America until after the New Year. 

Bucky was still working hard on his new album. He hadn’t been home long enough for Steve to tell him the news… 

Lonely, Steve curled into his nest with Hushie. He couldn’t help but miss Bucky and hope they might find their way back to each other. Maybe, they had rushed into this…

Sometimes, the only escape from life is sleep. So, Steve slept. 

Bucky couldn’t bear much more of this. He just couldn’t. 

Steve was so sad. 

And Bucky was fucking helpless. He didn’t know how to make it better, and he was afraid that it never would get better.  

Steve had been working so hard he’d hardly been home, but Bucky hadn’t either. 

He’d been drowning in lyrics and melody trying to kill the thoughts in his head. Recording was just another distraction though. He missed Steve…

The house was dark like no one lived there. 

Bucky had hoped to make this house a home, to fill it with the little pitter patter of pups, to grow old with his mate… 

A knock startled him. 

It was nearly two in the morning. 

Bucky opened the door to find a small woman with silver and blonde hair. 

“My flight was delayed, laddie. I did try to call.” She had a very strong Irish accent and big, blue eyes just like Steve. 

“M-Mrs. Rogers?” Bucky asked hesitantly. 

She huffed. “And I suppose ye are the Alpha?” 

Bucky swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She didn’t look impressed. “Now then, are you going to invite me in?”

“Oh, of course, let me get that for you.” Bucky picked up her worn bag, stitched with thistles. 

He showed her to one of the finished guest rooms. “Um, is there anything else you need?”

“I’m quite hungry,” she said. “Wouldn’t mind something strong either.”

Bucky chuckled. He made a quick meal of toast and scrambled eggs and poured them both a glass of whiskey. 

Sarah watched him with keen eyes. “How is my boy?”

Bucky didn’t dare lie. “W-We’ve been trying.” 

“Ah, I see.” She sighed. “My dear Joseph and I tried very hard for Steve.” Sarah poured herself another glass of whiskey. “I knew something was wrong. He never calls me when he’s sad. He’s so darn stubborn; he never asks for help.”

Bucky laughed as if his heart were breaking. 

“And I suspect you two youngins have done more harm than good.” Sarah frowned at him. “He was too young to get mated.”

Bucky looked down.

“And I don’t like that you rushed into this,” Sarah said. “But I am willing to give you a chance to prove me wrong.”

“C-Could you help me?” Bucky asked. “I don’t know how… I don’t know what…”

Sarah smiled sadly. “I never liked the idea of sharing my boy, but I won’t always be there for him. He needs someone with him till the end of the line.”

“I love him,” Bucky told her. He needed her to know that. 

Sarah patted his arm. “Now, I think we should both get some shut eye. We have our work cut out for us.”

Steve woke to the familiar smell of bubble and squeak, baked beans, and eggs. He grinned as he heard his ma’s voice.

She was lecturing Bucky on how to properly scramble eggs when Steve came skidding to a halt in the kitchen. 

He ran into her arms.

“Mo stór (my dear,)” Sarah murmured. 

“Ma,” Steve whined. He blinked back tears. 

She hugged him tightly. “Now, you need a hearty breakfast. You’re much too thin.”

Bucky smiled shyly at him as he handed him a plate of breakfast. “Your ma’s a hell of a cook.”

Steve grinned. “Just be grateful she’s not making blood pudding.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up. 

Giggling, Steve felt lighter than he had in months. He took a bite and felt like he was home again. 

Sarah Roger, Bucky decided, was like magic. Her mere presence was enough to make Steve act like a little pup again. He just lit up as if he’d been shrouded in clouds, but now he just shone. 

Bucky didn’t mind Sarah’s curiosity, nor her interrogation. 

She asked quite a few questions.

“How much longer will you be renovating?”

“And how did you meet? Were you a stalker?”

“What’s Steve allergic to?”

“You’re not holding him against his will, are you?”

Steve giggled like a maniac, not even trying to save Bucky. 

“Um, only should be finished by the beginning of the year. We met at a club. I didn’t stalk him! I was just a little persistent. He’s allergic to peanuts and gluten. No, he’s not being held against his will!” Bucky hid behind Steve. 

Sarah’s eyes danced like Stevie’s. “And what would you do for him?”

“Everything. Anything.” Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and rested his head on his shoulder. 

Sarah kept them both busy, kept them both distracted, but kept them close together. 

Christmas Eve, the Barnes family was finally coming over. 

Steve had changed five times. There was a giant pile of clothes on their bed. “Bucky, c’mon, help me here!”

Bucky hummed. “Um, the light blue sweater, yeah.”

Steve was all too tempting in nothing but a fuzzy sweater, his knickers, and socks. 

“Baby, come here,” Bucky whispered huskily. 

“Bucky, no!” Steve squealed as he fell onto a giant pile of clothes.

“Bucky, yes!” Bucky laughed as he peppered kisses all over Steve’s soft, lithe body. “God, I love you.” 

Steve’s legs wrapped around him. “Show me, Alpha.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened. He bit Steve’s mark eliciting a sinful moan. 

By the time, they’d made it downstairs Winnifred and Sarah were best friends, chatting conspiringly. Both women shared looks at Bucky and Steve’s obvious disarray. 

Steve blushed an even brighter shade of red and hid his face in Bucky’s chest. 

Bucky kissed the top of his head and winked at the two mothers. 

“Don’t you look right,” Winnie said. “You’re practically glowin, me dear.” 

Bucky flushed. “Mama!”

“Don’t embarrass the boy,” George pulled Bucky and Steve in for a hug. “You do look good though. And you, you must be Steve!” 

Steve squeaked out a “Nice to meet you, sir!”

George shook his head. “Now none of that. You call me Dad, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir, I mean D-Dad,” Steve stuttered. 

That Christmas really was one for the books. The Barnes and the Rogers fit together perfectly as if they were always meant to be family. 

And Steve was happy. 

That’s all that mattered. 

And it wasn’t until January, that everything changed. 

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, practically launching himself on top of Bucky. 

Bucky looked up at him with sleepy eyes. He squinted seeing a pregnancy test in Steve’s hand, a positive pregnancy test. “Holy shit!”

“We’re gonna have a baby!” Steve cried his tears like freshly fallen rain. 

Bucky pulled him into his arms and kissed him. He laughed and cried. 

Sometimes, love is an ocean too.

***

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