Chapter 10
Steve blinked as he took in Bucky’s hand. It was shiny and silver, although his fingers moved fluidly. The plates shifted against each other, but it didn’t look stiff or robotic like Steve had automatically assumed. He was probably staring for a fraction too long, because Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably. He looked up and saw something in Bucky’s eyes. It was similar to embarrassment, but it looked more painful than that. Steve realised Bucky was scared. Scared of Steve’s reaction.
“Wow. That- that’s incredible.” Steve looked at the hand with wonder. He hesitantly reached out, his hand frozen a couple of inches in front of Bucky’s. He glanced up at Bucky’s face, looking for confirmation that this was alright. That he was allowed to touch. A slightly jerky nod was all the encouragement Steve needed before he was gently stroking his fingers along the metal plates, handling Bucky with care. The metal felt cooler than his own hand, but not as cold as he was expecting. “Can you feel this?” Steve couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper, consciously aware of how intimate this moment was.
He looked up to see Bucky swallowing, clearly as affected as Steve, “Not as much as I can feel with the other one. I can feel pressure, and hot and cold to an extent. Like, I can’t be burned. It’s not that sensitive. I can feel your fingers right now.” they stared at each other for a second longer, and Steve took a moment to appreciate the colour of Bucky’s eyes. They were a beautiful mix of blue, grey and a hint of green.
Bucky’s eyes flickered down to his lips and with a jolt, Steve remembered why he was there. He pulled his hand back gently and stepped away from Bucky. He couldn’t believe he’d almost given himself away. He was meant to keep his distance, not let Bucky realise how ridiculously fast he’d fallen. He avoided eye contact as he cleared his throat and set his briefcase down on the coffee table. It gave a worrying wobble under the weight of his art supplies, and Bucky let out a slightly panicked noise. Steve looked up at him questioningly, just as the table legs gave out and the top collapsed.
Steve lunged towards the table to save his (very expensive) art stuff as Bucky grabbed Soldat’s collar and dragged him away before he got his nose crushed.
“Uh, I bought a new coffee table?” Steve looked at Bucky’s mortified face and couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up inside him. Bucky’s face had turned darker, a pretty pink blush painting the tops of his cheeks.
“And you assembled it today?” Steve guessed. Judging by Bucky’s face, he was spot on. He laughed again, hoping Bucky didn’t think he was laughing at him. Because he wasn’t. He was laughing at the situation (okay, maybe a little bit at Bucky, but who could blame him? It was funny.)
Bucky’s ears had turned red and that all but confirmed it. Steve stifled another laugh and looked at him apologetically. Bucky shrugged, going for nonchalant, and Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that his red face kind of ruined the image. “I was using a couple of cardboard boxes, but I finally unpacked them today. S’why I have the bookshelf as well.” Bucky guestered to the bookshelf Steve had just been looking at. He eyed it warily, hoping it didn’t collapse like his coffee table.
“Oh, have you just moved in?” Steve asked, hoping to direct the attention from Bucky’s lack of skills in building. He felt bad for laughing now. Bucky winced and Steve immediately wanted to slap himself. How was he making it worse?
“Um, no, actually. I moved in about six months ago and have only just gotten round to unpacking the last boxes. Been busy.” Bucky looked so uncomfortable Steve wanted to give him a hug. And possibly a kiss. But he wasn’t thinking about that.
At that moment Soldat, clearly bored of being ignored in favour of stilted conversation, barked loudly, making Steve jump slightly. He didn’t miss the grin on Bucky’s face as he jolted, and scowled back. “You wanna, um…” he trailed off, holding his art stuff up, and looking at Bucky questioningly. Bucky nodded, letting out a slight sigh. He ushered Steve into the kitchen, where he’d cleared the kitchen table in preparation for Steve’s arrival. Steve sat down on one of the chairs, “I hope this table is slightly more secure” Steve joked, placing his bag down carefully. Bucky snorted and took the seat opposite him.
“So I was thinking of just going through the basics of drawing today. Like how to do basic shapes, angles and shadows. It’s nothing complicated, I promise.” Steve said, opening his briefcase. He pulled out a brand new sketchbook he’d bought specifically for teaching Bucky and some pencils, handing them to Bucky, and then pulled out his own sketchbook. It looked a lot more worn than Bucky’s shiny new one, but Steve loved it. It was full of his work, sketches of Brooklyn, Peggy and strangers he found interesting in the coffee shop. He’d left the book with pictures of Bucky at home, not wanting the other man to see.
“Wow, Steve these are amazing.” Bucky breathed, looking through his work. He lingered on a picture of Peggy Steve had drawn a few weeks ago. It was just a rough sketch, but you could definitely see the love he had for her in the drawing. Steve blushed slightly, ducking his head. He really wasn’t anything special. Sure, he’d had a few galleries with his work, but his sketches were nothing to boast about.
They sat for a while in silence. Steve watched as Bucky flicked through his sketchbook, pausing occasionally at seemingly random pages. He was biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows furrowed. Steve could watch him forever. He was so careful with Steve’s sketchbook, touching the pages lightly, appreciating every line he’d drawn. It was almost obscene, the way he was looking at Steve’s work. He wished that gaze was directed at him. He’d love, just once, to be the focus of that kind of look. No one even looked twice at him in the street. He didn’t blame them; he wasn’t much to look at. It was why he wasn’t too bothered about Bucky’s apparent lack of interest. A short, skinny asthmatic wasn’t much to be interested in.
Steve lost himself in self pity, and missed the soft look Bucky was giving him. He blinked when the other man touched his arm lightly, the cool metal fingers grazing his wrist. “Hey sorry, I kind of lost myself there. Your sketches are really good.” Bucky smiled, ducking his head slightly, “I wish I was half as talented as you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Steve smiled tightly. He didn’t want to hear praises from a man who wasn’t (couldn’t be) interested in him. He felt bitter and selfish at the way he was reducing Bucky to his preferences but he couldn’t help it. Once he started spiraling with self-hatred it was hard to stop.
Bucky apparently noticed how uncomfortable Steve was as he took his hand away from Steve’s arm quickly. He tucked his arm away under the table, shaking his sleeve over his fingers as he did so. His face became closed off and he bit his lip nervously. “What’s wrong, Buck?”
“It’s okay, Steve, you don’t have to act like you’re okay with it.” Bucky looked so lost, so broken, it made Steve’s heart break. His eyes were averted, but Steve could still see the pain in them. Fuck. What did he do? “I know most people think they can deal with the whole bionic arm thing, but it’s fine. I get it, I really do. No one wants to be around me. I don’t need your pity.”
Steve looked at Bucky in alarm. He thought- no. That was completely out of the question. “Buck, I promise you I don’t have a problem with your arm. Or any part of you, for that matter. You’re everything I could ask for in a friend. To be honest, my only problem is why you’re spending your time with a loser like me. I’m not the kind of guy people want to be friends with. Your time and friendship means a lot to me, and I’m forever grateful for Nat and Peggy for introducing us. I know it’s only been a short time since we met, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Please, please understand I could never think any less of you because of something as little as the way you look. You’re so much more than that.”
Bucky looked up at Steve, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Although he was embarrassed for the word vomit he just unloaded, Steve held his gaze firmly, making sure Bucky knew he meant everything he said. It was wholly unfair for anyone to treat Bucky like he was less, and Steve wanted to kick the asses of all the people that made Bucky feel like that. Bucky let out a slightly choked laugh, and Steve realised he’d said that out loud. “Thanks, Steve, really. I appreciate you too. I’m sorry I got so defensive about it. Shall we get on with these lessons?” Steve accepted the change in subject and grabbed a pencil.
They spent the next few hours going over different drawing techniques and joking together. It was so easy to fall into the light banter they’d had before, and Steve cursed himself for letting his crush develop so quickly. Bucky’s eyes crinkled up when he laughed at a joke Steve had made, and Steve felt himself fall a little bit in love.