Chapter 2
Humans were beautiful, intricate creatures that never failed to surprise Steve.
This new human was no exception, he woke up slowly- thick, dark lashes fluttering until both eyes opened sleepily. Steve sat in his mother's rocking chair near the bed, watching every stretch and twitch like a hawk.
Nothing on the human looked broken. There was no blood or bruising but Steve knew that sometimes the human body was hurt below the surface and you couldn't see it with the naked eye.
"Good morning," he called to the waking body softly, still afraid to startle him but eager to know who the person was behind that icy gaze. "I have, um, water for you in case you're dehydrated..."
He waved weakly at the glass of water on the nightstand and pulled his bony knees up to his chest with a small, hopefully reassuring, smile.
The man moved slowly, cautiously almost. He was still nude beneath the sheet and Steve tried very hard to not blush now that the human's chest was bare again, the blanket pooled at his waist. His metal arm remained still at his side while the other reached out to reluctantly take the water.
Steve could've sang- the small amount of trust the human shown by taking little sip after little sip of water was enough to make his chest feel all warm and light.
"My name is Steve. Steve Rogers," he said with a grin, introducing himself the way his mom had taught him to.
The human nodded once, long dark hair falling into his face, "Bucky."
Steve wrinkled his nose in confusion, "What's a 'bucky'?"
For whatever reason, that startled a laugh out of the man. Pretty white teeth showing as he threw his head back, "Bucky is a nickname. Sergeant Bucky Barnes, at your service."
A handsome smile grew on Bucky's face and Steve couldn't help but mirror it, a funny flippy feeling starting in his stomach. And really, Steve's never seen someone so effortlessly attractive in his entire stay on Earth. He was breath taking, even with dark circles under his eyes and the haunted weight of his movements.
Steve's fingers itched to sketch that damn jawline so badly it physically hurt.
"Sergeant?" He asked instead of drooling (which was likely at this point). "Sergeant Bucky Barnes, that has a nice ring to it."
Bucky took a large gulp of water and hummed in agreement.
"Uh, well-" Steve paused. He didn't really want to dig into the nitty gritty details of the crash or abduction right now. "This is my cabin- actually, it was my Ma's but she passed a few years ago- and you're welcome to stay if you'd like...," he trailed off uncertainly, not entirely sure how to continue.
"I'd hate to be a burden-"
"No!" Steve slapped a hand over his mouth after the abrupt shout and blushed. "No, you wouldn't be a burden. It's just me here and it's in the middle of nowhere so I'd understand if you'd rather go into the city."
A snort escaped Bucky as he shook his head, "You'd have to drag me kicking and screaming to get me near all that noise."
He nodded, blonde hair falling into tired eyes. Years ago, his ma tried to take him to New York City but the crowded streets and honking horns had dissolved Steve into a shivering, crying mess of sensory overload.
Needless to say, they didn't ever go to the city again.
"Yeah, I understand that," Steve chuckled bitterly, tapping his hearing aid lightly. "Gotta use this or I can't hear anything on that side and if there's too much noise, it becomes unbearable."
Bucky nodded sympathetically, pulling the large blanket over his body again to snuggle down into the bed. Internally, Steve mourned the disappearing sight of those glorious abs.
"Sorry, you'd probably like to sleep," Steve unfolded his body, his spine popping as he stood up. "I'll just go to the kitchen, try to make you something to eat."
Bucky didn't reply, already closing his eyes to try and get more rest.
He tried.
Online, the directions were fairly simple and to the point so Steve assumed that even someone as inexperienced as himself could do it. Or rather, he had hoped that somehow he'd finally succeed in making a decent human meal without creating a science experiment.
Wrong. He was so very, very wrong and in his defense, he tried to stop the smoke that kept escaping the oven every time he cracked it open but in less than five minutes, every fire detector in the cabin was beeping insistently.
Every. Single. One.
"Steve?!" Bucky was in the doorway, sweatpants clinging to his sharp hips and Steve would've taken the time to really appreciate it he wasn't currently coughing up a lung. "Shit, Steve. What the hell-"
Bucky quickly shut off the oven and lifted Steve up off the kitchen floor and into his arms with ease. Grumbling, he gently settled Steve into one of the floral patio chairs on the front porch and disappeared back inside again.
Fumbling, Steve's fingers clumsily found his inhaler in his pocket and brought it up to his mouth. Stupid lungs being difficult like always, he thought bitterly as he took in deep, practiced breaths. All he wanted to do was cook like a normal human being and instead he almost burned his home down.
He wished he could say it was the first time.
"Steve, man, you scared the hell out of me," Bucky groaned as he fell into the chair beside him. All Steve could do was smile sheepishly, inhaler now gripped tight like a lifeline. "What were you even trying to cook?"
He mumbled his reply and stared hard at his mismatched socks.
"No, no. None of that," a hesitant but gentle finger lifted his chin up and Steve could've sworn that one touch made him ten degrees warmer. "C'mon, you weren't trying to smoke me out of bed, were you?"
Steve gave him a look that was equal parts 'of course not' and 'who do you even think I am'?
Bucky sighed, "Then what-"
"I was trying to make soup," he interrupted in a rush. "And my Ma's pie that she'd make when I was sick but I can't really make anything more complicated than a sandwich so..."
He grumpily crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from Bucky's softening eyes. Bless Sarah Rogers, but even she had tried to teach him the basics of cooking and had failed miserably.
Steve accepted that it wasn't for him a long time ago. Quantum physics? He could do that in his sleep but because he couldn't figure out how to use a stove top, he had to live off of microwave meals and cereal for the most part.
"I wasn't trying to wake you up, I just-" Steve covered his face with his hands and sighed. He just what? Wanted to show that he wasn't completely useless as a caretaker?
"How about," Bucky began slowly, " I cook something for us, as a thank you for letting me stay?"
Like a light, Steve instantly brightened. His hands dropped to his lap as he smiled up at Bucky, "You'll be staying then?"
"If you never touch that oven again, sure."
Steve poked at his chest, fascinated by the hard muscle and soft skin. "What? Don't want to get embarrassed by my amazing culinary skills?"
A grin tugged at those gorgeous pink lips when Bucky nodded, "Of course. It's not like I don't want to die in my sleep or anything. " Steve barely contained the urge to roll his eyes and stood up to follow Bucky back into his cabin.
Sure, he found it weird how easy it was to be around Bucky, like he forgot that he wasn't human at all and instead felt like another person. Like equals. It was as if Bucky belonged beside him and nowhere else.
Projecting. He was definitely projecting.
"So you use an inhaler?" Bucky asked slowly, moving the charred pot into the sink. He didn't bother to put a shirt on, even though he had to be chilled from the cold outside and Steve was now 100% sure that this man was going to be the death of him.
Steve snapped back to the conversation in an attempt to save face and pretend he hadn't been shamelessly oogling Bucky's chest- again.
"Um, yeah. I have lots of health problems. Asthma, you already know I'm partially deaf, scoliosis, lots of heart trouble too. Arthymia, irregular heartbeat, palpitations- all that wonky stuff," he listed as Bucky began digging things out of his fridge. "I'm prone to stomach ulcers, all kinds of fevers and colds. Also, I'm color blind which isn't as bothersome as the rest but you should know if you'll be staying with someone who's so... You know..."
Bucky froze. His back was to Steve, hand still full of some kind of vegetable he was about to throw into a sizzling pan. He angled his head to look at Steve blankly.
"I don't know. What do you mean?"
Steve immediately straightened up at the cold tone of the words, "You know." He shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the counter to watch Bucky cook. "Someone broken."
"You aren't broken, ya idiot," Bucky went back to cooking but he left no room to argue. "Not so sure how you're up and walking or how you managed to drag my heavy ass all the way to bed but you're definitely not broken. I'm the one missing body parts, yeah? I don't care how many health problems you have if you're cool with living with someone who's part cyborg."
Steve nodded, grateful to have that conversation over and done with. His body had become a sore subject after his ma died. Everything ticked wrong, wheezed, or popped and there was no special soup or forehead kisses to make it bearable.
To live day to day, he had to force down a mess of colorful pills and Sam's husband, Riley, acted as his visiting doctor now and again to make sure he isn't getting any worse.
If that isn't broken, he isn't sure what is.
Instead of arguing his point, he sniffed the air with a pleased sigh, "What are you making? It smells good." Lies. It smelled delicious but between drooling over those exposed abs and his sudden ability to blush every five minutes, he didn't have time to praise Bucky's cooking.
Whoever created Bucky Barnes spent some extra time on him, didn't they? Aren't humans (although wonderful) supposed to be at least a bit flawed?
"I'm making us some stir fry. Its super easy and I actually remember how to make it even though-" the 'I was abducted' hung between them heavily. "Anyways, I'm sure it's edible."
"We can talk about it if you want to, Bucky...," he watched Bucky's spine straighten out until it was a rigid line and all Steve wanted to do was hug the hell out of him.
For a moment, he thought Bucky was considering it.
"You should probably bring out the plates and stuff so we can eat," he said instead, effectively shutting that conversation down and leaving the offer there. Steve ignored the twinge of pain that followed. "You're too skinny as it is, Steve."
"My ma said the same but nothing sticks to me," he said as he reached up to pull down plates and cups. "But if it means I'll be eating actual meals again, then you can surely try."
He loved the food, of course he loved the food- what had he honestly expected? He did hate the heavy feeling of his gut that demanded answers though. Steve just wanted to ease the near constant line of worry between Bucky's brows but he knew he had to respect Bucky's privacy as well.
He wasn't too sure how to feel.