Chapter 5
Steve POV.
He sits down heavily on the communal locker bench, his heart beating wildly and breaking with every breath. Married. Bucky was going to propose to the woman he loved, and like the idiot he was, Steve was going to help him do it. He lets out a humorless laugh and buries his face in his hands.
What the hell was he doing? He was a mess. He could barely spend five minutes with you before he descended into a blushing, blubbering mess. His every waking minute was spent obsessing over you to the finest detail. He knew how you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you felt overwhelmed, or chew on your lip to keep sassy comebacks in check. He knew everything about you down to your favorite nail polish color. But it no longer seemed to matter.
He was lost. Drowning. He couldn't take it. He couldn't bear it. But he had to. Bucky was head over heels in love with you, and Steve wasn’t going to stand in his way. He had reluctantly made the phone call to Thor straight after he’d left the gym. Thor would be here in twelve hours, murderous brother in tow. The thought causes Steve to frown. Loki as a father-in-law would give the strongest among them nightmares. Although in all the years he had known (Y/N), Loki never once showed up for a visit.
Steve idly wondered if they had some sort of falling out. You barely mentioned him, but what did Steve know? He hardly spoke to you these days. Bucky had the right to your time, not him, Steve thinks bitterly and scowls at his traitorous thoughts.
Bucky deserved all the happiness in the world after what he had been through. Sighing, he shoves the depression down and moves to grab his bag when the bang of the doors opening draws his attention. He crouches down and hides from view, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as the two people he wants to avoid the most come bursting into the room. Steve flattens himself against the lockers, going as still as a statue.
Neither of you seems to notice him, though and soon you’re slammed against the backside of the locker Steve is hiding behind. The soft moan which leaves your lips has him swallowing heavily as he fights to keep his breathing quiet.
“You look damn fine with a sword in your hand, kitten,” Bucky growls. “You made me harder than steel.” His words are followed by a low laugh from you and a faint ripping sound. “Bucky!” you admonish. “You can't keep tearing off my clothing!”
“Sorry, darlin’. I’ll buy you new ones,” Bucky replies. Steve desperately tries to find an escape route, but he’s stuck. If he moved they would hear him and this definitely isn't a position he wanted to be caught in or suffer through. His eyes dart around the room as he ignores the rustle of clothes the best he can.
“Did you speak to-Oh! Steve?”
Steve freezes with your gasp, expecting to be caught, but shivers when you speak his name. His entire body erupts in goosebumps. His cock springs to life. He closes his eyes, the smell of sex fills his nose. He swallows thickly. God, how he longed to hear you moan his name. To fill you and love you until you couldn’t speak. He wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. He wanted to touch your most secret places, to find what made you scream. Your soft moans, your breathless whispers. He craved them all.
Instead, you give them all to Bucky. “I did,” Bucky replies, his voice wavering slightly. Steve wishes it was him. His fingers curl into his pants, inching higher to where he needs it, your moans and whimpers encouraging him.
“Oh! Fuck! Bucky harder!”
Steve nearly bursts into flame. He gives it up as a bad job and firmly grasps himself, needing to find some sort of relief from the hell he was in.
“Jesus, doll,” Bucky moans. The lockers begin to rock and for a moment Steve wonders if they’ll give and come crashing down. Soon, his mind drifts, imagining all the depraved and dirty things he wanted to do to you; what Bucky was allowed to do to you. He shoves the thought to the side, focusing on your voice. The way you said his name and resists the urge to moan, fights it with every ounce of his being.
“Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!” you gasp, Bucky grunts in reply “You feel so good, baby, so good,” he slurs. Steve bites down on his lip so hard he nearly draws blood.
“Bucky please!” you sob with pleasure. Steve imagines your face. Your eyes tightly shut, your mouth open, completely blissed out as he makes you scream, as he makes you beg for him. He would take his time. Explore every inch of you before he took you over and over. You would never leave his bed again. He could never have enough of his angel of death.
“I need you,” Bucky whispers, just loud enough for Steve to hear. The words stall his movements. Shame coats his insides. “More than anythin’,” Bucky sighs.
“Bucky.”
“I love you. Forever.”
“Forever,” you moan. Steve shuts his eyes once again. Heartbreak and pain bloom in his chest. A muffled scream follows Bucky’s words, and Steve knows Bucky has clamped a hand over your mouth. He grunts, the lockers jerking three more times before the room goes silent save for the sound of labored breathing.
“You are my forever, James.” Steve hears you whisper. “Never doubt it.” He fights the urge to cry. It wasn’t in his nature. Too many years of being the ‘little guy’, the one everyone bullied and picked on had beat it out of him. Tears only got you whooped harder, but he so desperately wanted too. “I know, babydoll. Sometimes I need remindin’.”
“I shall remember to tell you at least once a day, my love. Now, tell me. What ails Steve?” Bucky groans. “We can’t go five minutes without talkin’ about Stevie?” Steve hears a very unladylike snort. “I worry for him, James. He is not himself. It hurts me when our friends are unhappy.” Bucky sighs. “I think it’s Sharon. He might be missing her, is all. He said somethin’ to that effect, at least.”
“Oh! The poor man. How do we remedy this? Perhaps if we spoke to Sharon we could fix whatever it was that tore them apart?” Steve’s veins flood with ice. Sharon was the only other person who knew about his feelings for you, and she wouldn't hesitate to tell you.
“Nah, Steve’s a grown up. All we gotta do is be there if he needs someone to talk to. Don’t meddle, darlin’. You’ll only end up makin’ it worse.” Sighing in relief at your quiet, “as you wish,” Steve prays to every deity he knows that you and Bucky will leave.
“I need to go find him, now that I think about it. I asked him for a favor,” Bucky adds as an afterthought.
“Oh? What favor?” you ask with interest.
“It’s a surprise,”
“I detest surprises, James.”
“I know. This one you’ll love,” Bucky says soothingly.
“Oh. Alright. Off with you then. I'll see you for dinner,” you reply, sending him off.
Soon, you've both gone your separate ways, leaving Steve a broken mess on the locker room floor wondering where exactly he’d screwed everything up and how he was supposed to live watching you be married to the man he loved like a brother.