Bucky
The following night, Bucky had a surprise for Steve. He had noted dutifully that Steve hadn’t gone for a run early Sunday morning either, and that he ate his meals without even a shred of the self-control or self-consciousness he usually had. Bucky had no idea what had brought about this change so suddenly, but he was enjoying it almost as much as his dick was. Which, yeah, okay, after about a day and a half, it wasn’t just coincidence that every time Steve had an extra helping more than what Bucky was used to seeing, he’d get a prominent boner. So, in the name of science, Bucky was taking Steve out to an all-you-can-eat for an anniversary present.
It had been an unspoken agreement between the two of them to not get each other presents. They’d never really put a name on their relationship like “boyfriends” or anything like that. The most “us” they’d ever talked about was discussing the type of Dom-sub play they wanted to go on, but everything else (moving in together, meeting the parents, wearing each other’s clothes) seemed to happen without much direct verbal communication. It wasn’t that Bucky was opposed to calling him his boyfriend and kissing him on the cheek on the 17th of every month and grinning about it being their x month anniversary, but Steve didn’t seem like the type of person to welcome that. So Bucky hoped that he wasn’t crossing a line by taking Steve out to dinner for their one-year anniversary celebration, but maybe being two days late would throw him off a little.
“Hey, no peeking!” Bucky reminded Steve as he saw him parting a few of his fingers to try and figure out where they were going.
“I know, I know,” Steve responded, moving his fingers back like they were there all along.
Bucky smirked. A week ago he never would have considered bringing Steve to a buffet, but over the last two days he’d shown such a love for food that it encouraged Bucky to add to his enjoyment.
They reached the place he had in mind, and he parked the car before crossing over to Steve’s side and opening the door. “You can look now.”
Steve’s face immediately brightened up when he saw Chinese All-You-Can-Eat Buffet painted on the door. “Bucky, you shouldn’t have. I thought we weren’t giving each other gifts.”
“I know, I just really wanted to.”
Steve smirked. “It’s a good thing I didn’t listen either.” He reached behind his seat and pulled out an impeccably-wrapped box, handing it to Bucky.
Bucky beamed and gave Steve a hug. “I’m going to open it after dessert,” he said, wanting to save the anticipation as long as possible.
They went in and got a table, then went up for the buffet and found themselves at different parts of the room. Bucky decided to start with a sesame chicken salad, and when he got back, Steve already had two plates absolutely packed with desserts; jello, fried doughnuts, cherry tart, and a variety of cookies. Bucky was trying not to stare as he sat down and began eating, but Steve caught him gawking anyway.
“You can have dessert last so you can save your present for then, but I’m going to work my way backward,” he explained. “’Life is short, have dessert first’.”
Bucky thought to himself that the real present was watching Steve start with two plates of dessert. He’d never seen him eat more than two plates’ worth of food before this weekend. Also, since when was Steve hedonistic enough to quote Jacques Torres? Bucky reminded himself to try calling Steve “Mr. Chocolate” in bed later on.
Bucky had been eyeing Steve’s ass on the way into the restaurant, and in doing so, noticed that he was wearing a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans. Halfway through his third plate, they seemed to be giving the blond some trouble. He was squirming uncomfortably, and only his right hand was visible above the table. Then, relief washed over his face, and his left hand returned to cut some fried banana.
Holy shit, did he just undo his pants button?
Suddenly, that question was everything that took up Bucky’s mind. “I have to go the bathroom, be right back,” he announced, folding his napkin.
Steve nodded in response, mouth full of white rice.
Bucky carefully studied Steve’s crotch as he walked past (thank goodness the bathroom was beyond him), and holy fuck, yes, his button was undone, the hard surface of his belly curving just slightly outward.
The half-erection Bucky had been sporting in the booth grew into a full-on boner, and he surreptitiously adjusted it to the side via pocket. It was too persistent to be ignored, however, and he was glad he was already heading off to the bathroom.
He honestly didn’t intend to jack off in the stall of the public bathroom inside a Chinese all-you-can-eat-buffet, but life is funny like that sometimes, and there he was, muffling his groans by biting down on his left hand and twisting his fingers round his head as he pictured Steve’s distention becoming a true belly with actual flesh and fat, or a beer gut, round and heavy, the way his ass would fill out, his thighs spreading out more when he sat down, the double chin that would begin to form, how round and puffy his pecs would look.
He came so hard he forgot where he was for a moment, and allowed himself one quiet groan before cleaning himself up and exiting the stall. Fortunately, the bathroom was empty, and he washed his hands and walked back to their table like nothing ever happened.
Steve had already progressed to his fifth plate, while Bucky was still on his second. “Slow down, s’not a competition,” Bucky remarked before he could stop himself. He realised that that was the first time either of them had acknowledged Steve’s new eating habits aloud.
Steve paused for a moment, expression unreadable, and Bucky wanted to slap himself, but then he grinned easily. “Is that a challenge, Barnes?”
Any other night, Bucky would have taken his provocation and eaten the wasp-waisted blond under the table, but in sight of the last weekend (and the probability that Steve was slowly stretching out his stomach’s capacity to hold more food), he conceded. “Nah. My Ma taught me to only pick the battles I can win.”
Steve returned his attention to the battle on the table in front of him. “That’s a quality I never really learned.”
“I got that,” Bucky retorted, gesturing with his fork. Shut up, shut up, he yelled at himself. Before, his general attitude about Steve eating twice his weight in junk food was ‘ignore it, maybe it won’t go away’, but now that Steve knew that he was noticing it, what would happen?
“So,” Steve began, clearing his throat in an obvious change of subject, thank god. “Nick Fury wants me to go to New Mexico to check out a building we’re designing for Tony Stark.” He said it as a simple statement, and not like the highest level of authority in their company just offered him a chance to actually see one of their buildings, and not just draft them, for one of the richest billionaires in America, no less.
“Oh my god!” Bucky nearly chocked on his oolong tea. “That’s amazing! You said yes, right?”
“Well, I wanted to check in with you,” Steve added sheepishly. Was he blushing? He was blushing. Why was he blushing?
He wanted to make he had my permission, Bucky realised. How… surprisingly, adorable.
“You’d better! That is so… wow. You actually get to touch one of your works!”
Steve grinned, finally taking a small piece of the credit. “I know. I’m so excited.”
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
“When?”
“This Friday, the 24th. So, you’re fine with it? I mean, I can tell Fury I’ll go?”
They hadn’t been apart for more than a day since the moment they first started dating, but Bucky knew that this didn’t happen every day. Steve was gonna build something for Tony Goddamn Stark, after all. “Of course!”
They chatted about other details of the trip, and after his sixth plate of food, Steve finally seemed to be done. Bucky ate his small dessert, and grabbed the small box from earlier. Steve was smiling, obviously quite pleased with himself, as Bucky pulled the ribbon from its intricate bow. He lifted the lid, and inside the box, on a small cushion, was a pair of silver cufflinks. The decoration was a circular red shield, with a smaller blue circle, and a white star in the middle. Bucky didn’t know why, but when he looked at them, his heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t know if you’ll ever get a chance to wear ‘em, but I saw them, and I don’t know. I just felt that you should you have them,” Steve explained shyly.
“Steve, they’re beautiful.” Bucky was trying to make himself not cry over cufflinks, but it was the first real sentimental gift Steve had given him.
Bucky stood up to hug Steve, and didn’t miss Steve quickly zip himself back up before he stood to return the embrace.
--
Everything of Steve’s (that he need for the trip) was neatly packed into two suitcases. On Thursday, Steve had gone shopping ‘for some New Mexico weather clothes’, but Bucky knew just as well Steve did that if he kept eating the way he was, he would need some new clothes, D.C. or otherwise. His plane was leaving in eight minutes, and it was just starting to hit Bucky how much he would actually miss him. He promised himself he wouldn’t make a scene and come off super clingy, but here he was, making Steve swear to Skype every day.
“Noon, on the dot. It’ll be 2 pm here. You better pick up, or I’ll think one of the tumbleweeds got you,” Bucky repeated.
Steve laughed and kissed Bucky on the cheek. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“What if a building falls on you?!”
“Then I’m not a very good architect.”
“Steeeeeeeeve!”
Steve laughed, and gave Bucky a good, proper kiss. The last kiss we’ll have for three weeks, Bucky reminded himself.
“I’ll miss you,” Steve said, no more laughter in his eyes.
“I l--,” Bucky started. “I’ll miss you too.”
Bucky woke up Saturday morning and rolled over. His second favourite thing about Steve’s new diet was how they both got up at the same time. But the bed was empty beside him. For a moment his heart sank and he thought Steve might be out running again, but then he remembered he would be in New Mexico by now. He wasn’t sure what it meant that he was more relieved that Steve was almost two thousand miles away than if he had been trying to get in shape again.
He couldn’t lie; a small part of him was enthusiastic with the thought that Steve might come back with a little bit more of himself than when he left. Well, not a small part. A part that was growing in a relationship directly related with Steve’s growth. It was one thing to see him every moment of every day, packing himself larger lunches to eat in his cubicle, going to the gym less, laying out on the couch and snacking all the time, but it would be another thing entirely to miss out on almost a month of his life. Bucky already had a countdown until April 14th.
The morning went by far too slow. Even though he slept in a little, so he would only have to wait five hours until their Skype, it felt like five days. Then the last few minutes snuck by Bucky so suddenly that he glanced over at the clock and realised it read 1:58. He grabbed his phone so quickly that if he were in a cartoon, the cushions of the sofa would have jumped into the air. He pressed the “call” button.
Steve picked up on the second ring, something in his mouth.
“Hiya!” Bucky exclaimed, his voice high and excited.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve replied happily, swallowing and taking another bite of his sub.
They shared lunch together, and Steve filled Bucky in on every detail about his hotel and his roommate. The half hour went by all too quickly, and before Bucky knew it, he was telling him to be safe, and he better be there again tomorrow, or else.
His heart ached and he missed the weight of Steve on the couch next to him, or the obnoxious way he chewed chips with his mouth open while he was so absorbed in a tv show he forgot his manners. Every part of Bucky felt that Steve should be there, and it was only the first day.