1621 words
It turned out that making cinnamons rolls was easier in theory when one lived in a travelling RV that didn’t have an oven or a working refrigerator to store cold food, like milk, butter, eggs and cream cheese. They also didn’t have any mixing bowls, a rolling pin, an electric mixer, a wooden spoon, or a pan. And Steve doubted that the small counter space and table was big enough to work on.
“Hey Steve,” Bucky called out to him from the other aisle in the small convenience store they were in for snacks, making him look up. Bucky tossed him something, and he caught it.
It was a can of premade Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.
“Now all we have to do is use someone’s kitchen,” he told Steve, who blinked.
“Uh, maybe we should just buy some already made?” he suggested, thinking of the poor family that would wake up smelling baking cinnamon, and come to investigate and get the shock of their life when they saw two supersoldiers in the kitchen making sweet rolls like they owned the place.
Bucky crinkled his nose like the idea offended him, making Steve feel like a heel for even suggesting it. “No way, they’re terrible.”
“Oh,” he said. “Really?” He felt oddly betrayed by the future’s inability to make good sweet rolls, even though he never really cared before now.
Bucky nodded solemnly.
“Here,” he said as they went to the register to pay, passing Steve a honey bun. He took it warily and opened it, ignoring the clerk as she gave him a disapproving look, mollified by Bucky, who handed her another one to scan and then put it back on the shelf near the register.
It didn’t smell too bad, so Steve took a bite.
It didn’t taste too bad, but for something that was supposed to be delicious, it was pretty bad.
“Ugh,” he exclaimed in disgust, moving to throw it away, only to be stopped by Bucky grabbing it.
Steve watched in amusement as Bucky angrily chewed on the roll, clearly deriving some enjoyment from it, no matter how bland and weirdly textured it was. “They all sort of taste like this,” he told Steve, who tried not to smile.
“I’ll bet.” He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.
Bucky eyed him over his glasses and raised his eyebrows at him. “Alright, since you're so amused, you can finish it off.” Steve’s eyes widened as Bucky waved the half-eaten roll in his face. “I'm not joking, Rogers. Eat it.”
Steve, never one to deny Bucky anything, not even the sadistic glee from seeing him eat a truly awful pastry and especially not when Bucky was looking like that, took it and manfully chewed through another bite.
The cinnamon roll problem neatly solved itself when Bucky took the container inside the pizza joint they were getting two large pizzas from for dinner. The pimply-faced teen girl behind the counter perked up when she saw Bucky, smiling widely at him, showing off her braces.
“Hi, what can I get for you?”
Bucky glanced at her and returned the gesture with ease. “Two large pizzas with the works. There’s a little extra cash in it for you if you make these for us.” He shook the container at her, his smile going rakish, his red lips lopsidedly pulled up at the corners.
Steve didn’t fault her for blushing under the attention. Steve would have done the same.
“Well, we’re not supposed to, but I guess I can make an exception every now and then. Stick it to ‘em, huh?”
“Exactly,” Bucky replied heavily, full of meaning.
Her blush got darker and she fumbled for the container, recovering quickly. “I’ll go pop these in myself.”
Bucky turned to Steve and pointedly raised an eyebrow. “Shut up,” Steve muttered under his breath.
The cinnamon rolls were delicious, the icing sticky and sweet and the bread soft and melt-in-your-mouth fantastic. Neither one of them regretted eating them first, even when it meant that they couldn’t finish all their pizza.
They drove for a few more hours until midnight, when they decided to stop for the night, pulling off into a rest stop outside of Roswell, where they had been heading. They would go into town in the morning and spend the day seeing the sights. Bucky was obviously excited, and Steve knew why: aliens.
But that was tomorrow, and now, looking at the bed behind him in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, Steve was filled with trepidation.
He glanced at Bucky doing one armed pushups on the floor, admiring how in shape he kept himself. Steve almost couldn’t breathe for it.
“All done. Your turn,” he said to Bucky when he was finished, who grunted softly and sprang up, lithe and quick.
There was an awkward moment went Steve had to move so Bucky could get by, and ending up getting too close to Punk, who was eating and growled viciously in warning. Steve sat down at the table, his back to Bucky so he wouldn’t be tempted to look up from the laptop that he pulled towards him and opened up, trying to distract himself.
Distraction seemed like something he was doing all the time now that he had Bucky back in his life. And wasn’t that funny?
Another news article about some foreign atrocity served Steve well until he heard Bucky say, “all done changing.”
A jolt struck his spine, making him sit up straight and twist around.
Bucky was standing at the bed, wearing a purple chemise this time as he straightened the blankets and smoothed the sheets down.
Just the knowledge that Bucky had been naked while Steve had been on the laptop a few feet away, completely oblivious, was enough to make his mouth run dry for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He’d changed out of his outfit and Steve hadn’t noticed.
He was simultaneously grateful and angry about it.
He closed his gaping mouth, fighting a blush and trying not to be too obvious as he checked Bucky out.
The purple chemise looked even better than the pink one and Steve wondered how many he had in his collection. It complimented his fair skin tone, the cool toned hue.
He swallowed when Bucky turned to him and offered Steve a small smile. He noticed that Bucky had also let his hair down and took his makeup off, and he looked so comfortable and relaxed just then that Steve’s libido went into overdrive and was rarin’ to go. All sorts of naughty ideas popped into his head and Steve cursed himself, trying to recover.
“I, uh… thought about using the laptop in bed, if that’s okay?” he wondered, trailing off uncertainly.
Bucky raised his eyebrows, an amused expression in place. “As long as you promise not to look at any depressing news articles. Silly videos of kittens and puppies only,” he teased, smirking.
Embarrassed, Steve ducked his head.
There was a fatal flaw in his plan, however, as he came to realize as he crawled into bed beside Bucky, who was pressed up against him, Steve's elbow brushing his smooth silk chemise, which was the height of distraction. He must have been staring dazedly at the chrome webpage for a solid five minutes before he snapped out of it with a blush.
“If you're thinking about what to search,” Bucky suggested idly, “you could always go to my YouTube account and watch the Web Junk playlist somebody with a lot of time on their hands made.”
The Web Junk playlist was… really something else.
The videos in the beginning were all less than a minute long, and about really stupid shit that shouldn’t be funny. By the eleventh one, Steve was laughing his head off. It was about a fashion line named Cüm Moré where some guy was narrating the images hilariously.
“I have a dress that looks a bit like that,” Bucky mentioned suddenly, making him fall silent.
“A bit like how?” he wondered cautiously, given that the dress in the video was made out of slim wooden triangles that fit together in a zig-zag pattern, some pieces longer than others, making the dress look absolutely ridiculous. Steve imagined Bucky in it and had to bite back his grin.
“It has an asymmetrical hemline. Sort of choppy. I’ll wear it for you sometime.”
Another video started, but Steve wasn’t paying attention anymore, his mind whiting out at the thought of Bucky wearing something for him, something that was sure to make him look like a knock out, something that Steve was expected to appreciate. He knew he would appreciate it. He’d appreciate it all over Bucky’s face, his painted red lips as they stretched wide open for –
Steve forcibly tore himself away from such ungentlemanly thoughts and tuned back into the videos that were still playing.
They laid there a few more minutes until Bucky yawned, so Steve paused the video and turned off the laptop, setting it on the corner of the counter next to the “bookshelf”.
He settled back onto one of Bucky’s pillows, turning sideways so he could look at him.
“You know…” he began quietly, making Bucky turn towards him, mirroring his position. “I'm really glad you let me come with you. I don’t know if I really mentioned it yet. And I had a really good time today, the face biting incident included. Wouldn’t be as exciting if there wasn’t a little bloodshed.”
Bucky smiled at him in the dark, making his chest feel light, like he could float away.
“Goodnight, Stevie,” he told him quietly, almost inaudible.
“Goodnight, Buck,” Steve replied, grinning from ear to ear.