Chapter Text
Bucky had very reluctantly tried to get back on the dating scene. After seeing his ex out and about, keeping up appearances with a date on his arm at events, he felt foolish having not moved on upon seeing Steve seemingly unaffected by their devastating separation.
A new guy at work asked him out, so he said yes. While getting ready, he was clumsy with his tie - something Steve would always help him with, kissing his nose afterwards - and could hardly look in the mirror. He had always struggled with self-esteem. Without the constant reassurance from his Stevie, mean thoughts crawled their way into his subconscious, tormenting him.
Cruel, intangible enemies of the human, hiding themselves in the depth of one’s conscience, far from where even the bravest would poke around; they were untouchable. However, their bite was soothed when you had someone you loved crooning in your ear about how they’re wrong, and you are worthy, you are handsome, my handsome boy, Steve would say.
But now, as he brushed his teeth, icy blue eyes flitted between his reflection and the floor, never remaining on the former for long. He thought about adding a bit of highlighter or perming his eyelashes. That used to make him feel so pretty next to his Da— next to Steve. He decided against it, though. His makeup very rarely made an appearance at work, so he figured surprising his date with that mightn’t go very well.
Later, at the restaurant, they were seated and chatting easily. Although, it was difficult for Bucky to steer the conversation away from work, as the guy didn’t seem to be passionate about much else outside of their 9 to 5. Another thing that bothered him was that the other man had ordered for him, because he knew the good stuff. It didn’t feel good like when Steve used to order for him, didn’t give him that floaty feeling that just let him relax and be taken care of. No, instead, he felt that his date was being arrogant and inconsiderate.
It’s only one bad date. There will be others.
The next date was with a man he ran into at the train station. He looked quite handsome when they met, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair wet from the shower. He was a huge flirt, too. They got coffee together to warm themselves up, but by the end, Bucky’s ears hurt from the other man chewing them for the past few hours. It made him a bit upset. Of course, he’d met self-absorbed people before, but with how he’d been feeling recently, it was only adding fuel to the fire.
Were people not actually interested in him?
Was it all superficial attraction? Does he bore people when he speaks? Maybe that’s why Steve left him…
He cried that night, but he didn’t blame it on the bad date, as weeping into his pillow happened to be a common occurrence of that past week. He couldn’t understand why these awful feelings were becoming more intense. Maybe it was as the skies were greying and the leaves fell from trees? Blaming the weather was easy. Admitting he was struggling because it was like he’d returned to the loneliness of his past, was difficult.
After pushing himself through a few more dates, he gave up. It wasn’t even that his dates were bad (with exception for some horrible experiences), it was because he couldn’t help but compare them all to Steve. He knew it wasn’t fair on them, and he was only hurting himself more, so he decided to stop. It felt like everything else stopped too. Before he had realised this inability to detach from Steve, he’d been following the same routine they’d had for those two years.
He’d pack his bag and chose his clothes the night before just like Steve would tell him to, he’d go to bed on time, he’d be good.
But for who?
Asking himself this question was painful. It felt like there was no reason for him to continue with all the things Steve made sure he did. Slowly, he stopped taking care of himself. He exercised far more than healthy. Ready-made meals from the supermarket were easier, and they didn’t remind him of when he cooked for them - their little family of two. He kept himself clean, of course, but anything beyond basic hygiene was forgotten. He began to lose weight, and his hair didn’t hold the same shine it had once before. He wore basically the same outfit every day, clothes that lacked shape, or colour.
One evening, he was walking down the street, shoulders hunched making him look small. He’d tried to go out with some people from work for Friday night drinks, but he’d left early, finding the bar overwhelmingly loud and a few of his coworkers’ jokes just too unfunny to bear them any longer. He bumped into someone - serves him right for looking at his shoes, kicking stones on the ground. It was a warm, solid chest that felt all too familiar. He didn’t let himself enjoy it, though. He stuttered out a genuine apology before hurrying his steps home. He failed to notice the concerned stare from the gentleman who knew him better than anyone.
Steve was walking in the park that same night.
~~
He had been feeling guilt and regret grip his heart in its iron fist for a while now. His company was adamant on him having people accompany him to galas and events. Typically, someone from a company they worked with, or wished to acquire. He hated it. Of course, he was polite and courteous, but it felt wrong to be photographed like they were a new couple. Most of the time, the people he was paired up with would much rather come with a date of their own choice, too. He just wanted to be back with his baby Bucky. He wished that he was stronger, that he didn’t let the comments get to him, but when every picture taken of them had turned into a debate about their age, or their motives, Steve became overwhelmed.
Of course, he’d never believe the accusations of gold-digging on Bucky’s part. Yes, he was young, and fresh out of university, but his morals were so strong he would never exploit Steve’s wealth. It was the other rumours that forced him to make the decision.
Was he taking advantage of Bucky? Was his power as an older man, and an influential one at that, having an unfair effect of the impressionable boy? Bucky was vulnerable to Steve’s type, the dominant, commanding men of the business world. He was so naturally submissive, maybe he was just vulnerable when they met, and Steve was the one exploiting him.
The thought had made him so sick, to the point it all bubbled over, and he’d cruelly sent Bucky a text during the night, the termination of their relationship, with a promise to return his things. God, Bucky had called and called. He left long, devastating voice messages that Steve played back when he felt particularly self-loathing. He couldn’t go back on his decision though. It was the right thing to do.
At least he thought it was.
When Steve ran into Bucky that night, he hardly recognised him. Steve would know that face anywhere, but the too-lean frame and dull, knotted hair was not the Bucky he knew. God, had he not been taking care of himself?
Bucky looked so sad. Then again, so was he.
~~
Next time Steve saw Buck was when their respective companies were working together. Considering their roles were so different, neither expected to interact during the project. Steve was sure Bucky’s shirt was two sizes too big, it ballooned around him, making his figure indecipherable. Yet, when he smoothed it down, or twisted a certain way, Steve noticed how thin he was, how his skeleton was damn near visible through the classic blue shirt he wore.
Steve noticed everything.
Steve led the first meeting. They were surrounded by their peers, and Steve had the strength to remain professional. When the conversation warranted it, he guided the attention towards Bucky, aware of how skilled his- the man was in the field.
“Mr Barnes is very knowledgeable; you’d best consult him before moving forward with the decision.” Steve gestured with his strong hand. When he locked gazes with Bucky, he found those pretty eyes following his hands, glassy and mesmerised.
Bucky always liked his hands.
Sucking on his fingers, feeling them on his skin…
Fuck. Steve had to keep it together. He knew that look. Bucky was almost gone. He doubted if Bucky had dropped since they separated, but knowing how easy he went under, Steve wasn’t surprise he’d lost focus so quickly.
Clearing his throat, and gently prompting Bucky again, the boy obediently listed off the potential risks and rewards that the decision would incur. When he finished, he snuck a glance at the blonde man, delighted to see a proud little smile there.
Bucky caught himself seeking Steve’s approval throughout the meeting, but when another executive signalled time for a break, and his ex-boyfriend left the room without coming to talk to him, he realised how delusional he was being. Steve didn’t want him back, he just wanted success for his company. This was strictly business.
Bucky was so embarrassed. How shameful, for him to be blatantly eyeing Steve that whole time, imagining being held in his suit-garbed arms, having him whisper sweet things in Bucky’s ear. God, he felt sick.
~~
When the meeting reconvened, Steve’s eyes frantically searched for the cute head of brown curls he still loved so much, but he couldn’t spot them anywhere.
“I sent him home. I found him vomiting in the men’s. He’s pretty crook, the poor chicken.” Bucky’s boss was kind and very paternal. Steve appreciated his sympathetic actions, but the news also made him worry.
When the day wrapped up, and they were getting closer to an agreement, Steve found himself driving to Bucky’s house. He hadn’t thought this through at all, but he knew something was wrong.
He knocked on door and the sight that greeted him was heart-breaking. Bucky’s lashes were wet with perpetual tears, and his nose was rubbed raw. His face crumbled in a sob when he saw Steve’s imposing figure in the doorway.
Why was he here?
“Oh, baby.” Steve couldn’t help himself. He walked into the room, commanding the space like he did everywhere. Bucky let him. The crying boy’s chest continued to heave while he blubbered out apologies for the state of his apartment.
“Hey, hey, shh. Shh. It’s alright, sweet boy. Come here.” Steve cooed as he gathered him in his arms as if they hadn’t been apart for months, like he hadn’t completely ruined Bucky.
James was a weak, weak man.
Bucky let himself melt into the chest of his ex-lover, basking in the familiarity of it. With practiced ease, Steve lifted him up and moved them to the couch so they would be more comfortable. Bucky didn’t ever want to pull his face out of Steve’s neck, afraid that if he did, Steve would remember why he’d left, and do it again.
“C’mon, bubba. Let me see that pretty face.” A wet splutter escaped Bucky before he whined in protest.
“Don’t-don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” He said, pained.
“Say what, Buck?”
“That ‘m pretty.” More sniffling.
“But you are, so pretty.” Steve was adamant.
“Not pretty enough for you to keep me.” Bucky whispered into the moistened skin of Steve’s neck. Steve’s body sent a stabbing pain to his heart, punishment for making Bucky feel this way. From Steve’s silence came a moment of clarity, Bucky reeled back from his dark hiding place, frowning deeply at Steve before scrambling from his lap and heading for the bedroom.
He didn’t know why Steve was here. Why was he loving on him suddenly? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. He had barged into his apartment and made Buck all floaty. How dare he use his stupid, Dom shit on him, he thought petulantly.
Steve could hear buck huff and mumble cutely while he followed closely behind.
He was begging to know what was wrong, and why he’d been sent home sick. Was he eating enough? It certainly didn’t look like it. Bucky didn’t respond, opting to lock himself in his bathroom and get in the shower so he didn’t have to listen to Steve’s deep, soothing voice. Bucky hated himself for still revelling in the comfort Steve brought him. It was pathetic.
He took a very long shower.
~~
Steve had cleaned up Bucky’s apartment and cooked them dinner with what little he found in the fridge. His eyes stung from how much he’d cried.
He cried when he found all the little cards he’d sent Bucky during their relationship, tear-stained and crumpled on Bucky’s bedside table. Did he think about him and much as Steve did?
He cried when he found a little list on his dresser for ‘self-improvement’, hardly encouraging, more like a letter of self-loathing and tips for rapid weight loss.
Oh, how he cried when he found razors on the floor of the guest bathroom, bloodied and dull. Self-harm hadn’t been a problem for Buck in years. This was worse than he thought.
~~
Eventually, the shower stopped, and Steve gave Bucky time to redress. They knew the most intimate parts of each other so well, but he wouldn’t dare violate or make Bucky uncomfortable.
Steve’s patience ran out when the clock ticked past eight and Bucky still hadn’t come out to eat. Carefully, he peered through the crack in the door only to find his precious boy passed out on top of the covers. Caring instincts led his feet towards the sleeping figure. Gently lifting him, Steve grimaced at how light he was. Bucky stirred and grumbled in his hold, but quickly settled.
He was so fucking cute.
“Hush, baby. Daddy’s got you.” It was shy and whispered. His heart had felt empty not being there to care for his boy like he had for so long. He didn’t know if Bucky would ever trust him as his daddy, but he selfishly took advantage of his sleeping state.
He pressed a tender, reluctant kiss to Bucky’s temple, lips lingering far too long. Unable to resist, he lay down under the covers, work clothes still on, keeping Bucky secure in his arms. He didn’t know how Bucky would feel in the morning, but for now, Steve let himself cry gently into his boy’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer.