
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7579459.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies), Marvel_Cinematic_Universe
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes_&_Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Patti_Barnes
  Additional Tags:
      Fluff_and_Smut, Babysitting, Fluff, Smut, Cooking, Brooklyn, Pre-Captain
      America:_The_First_Avenger, Asthma, Pre-Serum_Steve_Rogers, Bottom_Bucky
      Barnes, Top_Steve_Rogers, Mutual_Masturbation, Oral_Sex, Anal_Fingering,
      Anal_Sex, Stucky_-_Freeform
  Series:
      Part 3 of 1935
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-25 Words: 2949
****** The Many Faces of Steve Rogers ******
by blue_pointer
Summary
     Bucky and Steve babysit. Steve's maturity level plummets. He's a bad
     influence.
     After making dinner, they go back to Steve's place and shag like
     teenage boys.
Notes
     This is really just some fluff with a smut chaser.
     Some of you know Patti from The Space Between. She's much younger
     here.
“She’s copying me again!” Steve complained, glaring at Bucky as if he were
personally responsible for his sister’s behavior.
“Aw, Stevie,” Bucky slipped off the front window ledge and walked over to the
couch. His youngest sister was lying on the floor next to Steve, stretched out
on her tummy, furtively scribbling on a piece of paper with an orange crayon.
Her tongue was touching her nose in concentration as she worked to get the
scribbles of Bucky’s arm just right. “She’s just a friggin’ baby. I dunno why
you let it upset you so much.”
“She’s makin’ fun of me!” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and
scowling, managing to look much younger than he was.
Noticing something had changed, Patti sat up from her drawing and, looking at
Steve, crossed her arms over her chest as well. Bucky laughed.
“See!?” Steve said.
“Imitation is the highest form of flattery, pal,” Bucky told him. Steve’s scowl
remained firm. “She just loves you. Don’t you Patti?” Bucky bent down to
address his baby sister. “You love Stevie, don’t you?”
“Steebie!” she cried, leaping up and running to Steve to hug his leg. She laid
her chubby cheek against his knee and squeezed.
“Awww. See?” Bucky chuckled. “You’re her hero, pal.”
“Make her stop hugging me!” Steve demanded. “I’m tryin’ to draw and she’s
messin’ me up!”
“Oh, brother.” Bucky bent down to scoop Patti up before Steve threw a full-on
temper tantrum. “Sometimes I wonder which one of you is the actual baby.” He
stood, settling Patti on his hip.
“I’m not a baby!” Patti said, sticking all four fingers in her mouth,
thoughtfully.
“Well I’m not the baby!” Steve shot back, as if he were actually having this
argument with a little girl. “Why didn’t Katie take her along to Becky’s piano
lesson anyway?”
“Because,” Bucky said, explaining patiently as he walked to the kitchen to grab
his sister a bottle, “there’s no reason to go draggin’ two little girls all
over Brooklyn when you can just drag one.”
When he came back into the living room, Steve was angrily packing up his
things. “I’m goin’ home. I don’t wanna babysit.”
“Who asked you?” Bucky said. “You’re just hangin’ out with me while I give
Katie a break.” Steve glared at him. “You really wanna go home by yourself and
sit there all alone for the rest of the night?”
Steve considered this, and looked sullen. “No,” he said at last.
“Then c’mon,” Bucky said, putting Patti down on the floor where she immediately
toddled back toward Steve on the couch. “We should probably start dinner.”
This perked up Steve immediately. “Dinner? What’re we havin’?”
Bucky grinned, turning back toward the kitchen. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
“Potatoes?” Steve asked, undeterred by the main ingredient of most of their
family recipes (both Barnes and Rogers).
“Yup. You wanna start peelin’?”
“Sure.” Steve came in and grabbed the peeler out of the drawer before sitting
down at the kitchen table. Patti followed Steve in, attempting to climb up on
the chair next to him and failing. 
“Up!” she demanded. Steve leaned over and handed her a spud out of the basket.
“Here you go, kiddo.” Patti examined it for a moment before putting it in her
mouth. Steve laughed. “You sure you didn’t drop her on her head? I think
there’s somethin’ wrong with her.”
“Damnit, Stevie!” Bucky strode over from filling the big pot with water in the
sink. “Don’t let her suck on a friggin potato.” Steve was still giggling.
“Jeez, punk, you didn’t even wash it before you gave it to her.”
Bucky squatted down so that he was eye level with Patti and held out his hand
for the potato. She dutifully handed it over. “Thank you, honey.” He gave her a
brotherly smack on the cheek.
Just then, the water started to overflow the pot in the sink. “Shit!” Bucky
jumped up to turn it off.
“Shit!” Patti echoed. Steve burst into giggles.
“Thanks a lot, Stevie,” Bucky glared at him.
“You just taught the baby to say ‘shit!’” Steve bent over the table with mirth.
“Shit!” Patti echoed, smiling because Steve was smiling.
“Damnit, Steve!” Steve’s face was red from laughing, and Bucky had to watch him
for a moment to make sure he wasn’t having an attack.
“Dabbit, Steeb!” Patti echoed him, pointing a mock-angry finger at Steve.
Steve kicked his legs, giving a high-pitched shriek of amusement at the added
swear word. “That ain’t funny!” Bucky insisted, walking over to scoop his
sister up again.
“Hey, brat. Hey. Listen.” But she was peering over his shoulder at Steve, who
was wiping tears from his eyes. “You listenin’?” He poked her gently in the
tummy until Patti looked at him.
“Now, you don’t wanna get big brother in trouble, do ya?” Patti shook her head
no. “Okay. So don’t go sayin’ those words in front of Mom or Katie, okay?”
“‘kay,” Pattie agreed. And added solemnly, “Shit.”
Bucky sighed. “No, DON’T say that word, Patti.”
“Shit!” A voice whispered from behind Bucky. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
Steve was dancing around them, gleefully whispering the word to the baby,
encouraging her to ignore everything Bucky was telling her. Patti watched him,
fascinated.
“Steven Grant Rogers!” Bucky bellowed. “You watch your friggin’ language around
my baby sister!”
Unfortunately, his best friend thought he was hilarious.
“Shit, Patti,” Steve told her one more time, kissing her on one chubby cheek
before dropping back into his chair at the table.
“Shit?” she asked Bucky.
Bucky stroked her baby-fine locks, trying one more time. “No, honey. That’s not
what Steve said. Steve said ‘sit.’ Sssssssit. As in ‘why don’t you go SIT next
to Stevie and help him peel potatoes?’”
“Help Steebie?” Patti asked, peering over Bucky’s shoulder at the 90 pound hero
in question.
“Yeah,” Bucky told her, heaving a sigh of relief. He carried her over to the
chair and carefully tucked her into it. “SIT. Next to Stevie.” Bucky left them
to put the water on the stove to boil. “DON’T give her another dirty potato,
Steve,” he warned.
Behind him, Steve quickly snatched the unpeeled potato out of Patti’s little
hand before it could get to her mouth. “Dabbit, Steeb!” she cried out in
response, and Steve started to laugh again.
“I’m gonna get you for this, Steve Rogers,” Bucky promised from the stove,
lighting the burner. But when Bucky turned to check on them, Steve had Patti
sitting in his lap, and he was carefully peeling potatoes around her. As Bucky
watched, Steve distracted her tiny fingers from reaching for the sharp peeler
by starting to whistle “Get Happy.” Patti turned to stare at him, rapt, her
grey eyes wide.
Bucky was glad Steve’s dark mood had lifted. Maybe they hadn’t gotten there in
the best possible way, but as long as it was past... Bucky started to shuffle
his feet in rhythm with Steve’s whistling, and joined in singing as he
retrieved a head of cabbage out of the ice box.
“Happy!” Patti sang, clapping along.
 
They managed to get dinner on without further incident, and Kate came back with
Becky before the food was boiled past edibility.
 
After dinner, Bucky walked Steve back to the tenements, because it wasn’t the
safest walk after dark anyway, and Steve had proved he could attract bullies
from anywhere at almost any time of day.
“Did you get that last math problem?” Bucky asked, stepping to one side when
Steve tried to grab his school bag back.
“I can carry it myself, Bucky!” Steve protested.
“I know,” Bucky told him. “But I’m carryin’ it right now, so hands-off.”
“You stink,” Steve told him, rushing ahead as if he could beat Bucky up the
stairs.
“You think?” Bucky joked, sniff-checking his armpit. “Nah, that’s just the East
River you smell.” He inhaled deeply. “Ah, the smell of the Heights in
September!”
Steve chuckled. “Stupid.” He took the stairs two at a time, attempting to show
off for Bucky.
“Hey!” Bucky called after him. “Don’t give yourself a damn heart attack, pal!
You don’t gotta impress me!”
“Don’t you fucken kids be yellin’ on the g.d. stairs!” an angry voice called
down from the third floor.
“Sorry, Mr. Donnell!” Steve sing-songed before his face appeared over the
second floor rail, glaring reproachfully down at Bucky. Bucky rolled his eyes.
By the time he got to the Rogers’ apartment door, Bucky found Steve sitting on
the couch, puffing on his nebulizer. “Told you not to overdo it,” he said,
setting Steve’s bag down and closing the door behind him. Then Bucky moved to
open the windows. Fresh air always helped Steve’s asthma. The other thing that
helped was hot water. So Bucky put the kettle on and lit the stove, too, before
returning to the couch.
Steve seemed a little better. He clutched the face mask loosely in one hand and
rested his head on the back of the couch, eyes closed. Bucky slid up next to
him, snaking an arm around Steve.
They stayed that way for a few minutes. If Bucky hadn’t known the exact
patterns and rhythms of Steve’s breathing and what each of them meant, he might
have thought his friend was asleep. “You want me to head back home, let you get
to bed?” he asked.
“No.” Steve’s eyes opened, and he pushed Bucky down on the couch, climbing on
top of him.
“This wasn’t really what I meant--” Bucky began, though he wasn’t objecting.
“Imeant it,” Steve told him, moving in for a demanding kiss.
“I guess you’re feeling better,” Bucky observed, when Steve let him up for air.
“Smartass.” Steve flicked his nose.
“I dunno,” Bucky teased. “You tell me.” He squirmed around so that he was lying
on his belly underneath Steve. “Does it feel like a smart ass or a dumb ass?”
Steve wasted no time moving up behind him and gripping Bucky’s hips. From the
feel of him, Steve was even more excited than Bucky had given him credit for.
“I like your ass,” Steve grunted, pushing up on him in a way that was not
inexperienced. Deft hands slipped underneath Bucky to open his belt and
unfasten his trousers.
“Whoa, you’re moving kinda fast there, aren’t you?” Bucky said, having expected
at least a little more kissing first.
“Fuck you,” Steve whispered, biting his ear. “You made me babysit your little
sister tonight. You owe me.”
Bucky wondered idly when he’d agreed to trade time at home with his family for
sex on Steve’s couch, but he didn’t exactly mind. Besides, Steve’s hands were
down his pants now, and that meant they’d really passed the point of no return.
“Sssteve!” he hissed, thrusting against his best friend’s nimble fingers.  
“You got too many clothes on, Buck,” Steve complained, sliding off Bucky to
give him room to disrobe without taking his hands out of Bucky’s fly.
“Okay, but--” Bucky squirmed, trying to find a position that worked to serve
both purposes. “Steeeeve…”
“Keep goin’, Buck,” Steve instructed, watching Bucky struggle from where he
knelt on the floor between Bucky’s knees.
Bucky bit his lip, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He was still
fighting to shrug out of his sleeves when Steve’s mouth enveloped him with an
audible ‘hum.’
“Fffffffuck!” Bucky collapsed back on the couch, his hips twitching him deeper
into Steve’s moist heat. Bucky tried to keep undressing. He really did. But
Steve’s technique was improving, and there was no substitute for enthusiasm.
“Buck!” Steve scolded, pulling off and taking Bucky in hand. “You hardly even
got your dress shirt off.”
“‘s distracting,” Bucky breathed. “Don’t--hnnnnn...”
“You don’t take your shirts off, I’m gonna do it for ya,” Steve warned, letting
go to grip Bucky’s undershirt and pull it over his head.
“No, Steve!” Bucky protested, needing the pressure back around his cock.
“Are you gonna be good?” Steve asked, bending over him.
Bucky nodded, gripping his cock, impatient.
Steve glanced down, watching Bucky handle himself. “You gonna do what I tell
you now?” Bucky nodded again, looking up at Steve, flushed and needy.
“Then get your hands off my candy!” Steve demanded, knocking Bucky’s hand away.
Bucky whimpered only for a moment until Steve’s mouth returned. Then his
fingers tangled in Steve’s hair, holding the back of his head.
“Ssssteeeeeeve!” Bucky’s hips rocked gently into the pressure. He gasped when
Steve’s fingers shifted from cupping his balls to nudging his ass. “Steve!”
Bucky whined. “Not dry!”
Steve gave him the most sexy of hateful looks before getting up to walk out of
the room. Bucky took the time to turn off the stove, shuck off his pants, and
drag the throw blanket down underneath him on the couch.
He’d just finished when Steve came pounding back into the room, literally
jumping on top of him without further preamble. “What the hell is that supposed
to be?” Bucky glanced over his shoulder to ask. “You Superman now?”
“Shut up,” Steve told him gruffly, reaching around to grip Bucky in a slick
fist before pushing a finger inside him.
“Haaaaa!” Bucky swallowed, taking a moment to find his words. “Someone’s
impatient,” Bucky observed breathlessly, reaching back to draw his fingers down
from Steve’s navel to his groin. He had hair there now, though it was much
finer and lighter than Bucky’s.
“Been thinkin’ about this since biology class,” Steve grunted, rubbing the head
of Bucky’s cock in his cupped palm.
Bucky had meant to tease him about thinking of sex in biology class, but he was
beginning to see stars, and could do little more than whine and thrust as Steve
pushed a second finger inside him. “D-amn…” Bucky gasped.
“You ready?” Steve asked.
Bucky rocked back and forth between Steve’s hands, letting the pressure build.
“Yeah!” He pushed back against Steve’s fingers, but they quickly disappeared.
“Oh, Buck!” Steve groaned, kneeling behind him on the couch and jerking Bucky’s
hips into position. A keening whimper escaped his throat as Steve eased in,
feeling Bucky slowly stretch around him.
“Oh, fuck!” Bucky gasped, squeezing the fabric of the blanket in both fists.
“Buckeeeeeee,” Steve groaned, starting to piston in and out, his pace
increasing exponentially as Bucky relaxed and Steve’s excitement grew. Bucky
panted underneath him, always amazed at how enthusiastic Steve could be in the
sack after spending the day at school being sullen and lethargic.
“Ssst--Steve!” His body shuddered when Steve’s cock hit him just right, and
Bucky pushed back against Steve’s pressure for all he was worth.
“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve panted, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Say my
name.”
“Steeeeeeeeve!” Bucky drew out the moan, pushing back hard to bounce off
Steve’s thrusts and give him depth. Their bodies made a distinct sound where
they met now, and Steve growled, starting to just plow him.
“Buck!” Steve leaned back, spine arching, focusing on their point of
connection, his thrusts slowing but not easing up.
“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky gasped. “How long are you gonna fuck me for?”
Steve slowed further, moving in and out of Bucky as if his attention were
focused elsewhere, perhaps pondering the question. Bucky couldn’t believe he’d
lasted this long. “I dunno,” he said. “All night?”
“Steve!”
“All right, all right, Buck.” He bent over Bucky, gripping his sack and
increasing his pace just a little. “You come first, though.”
“Steeeeeeeve!” Bucky arched his back, finding that angle again. Then he thrust
into the tight circle of Steve’s thumb and index finger, just letting go of
everything except the sensations. Before he knew it, the room had grown loud
with cries of pleasure, and he realized with some embarrassment that they were
his own.
“Yeah, Buck,” Steve growled, biting his shoulder. “Come for me! I like how loud
you get when you like it.” Bucky didn’t think he could have gotten louder, but
he did. His shouts worked like an aphrodisiac on Steve.
Steve’s climax followed close behind Bucky’s, and he withdrew, spilling hot
seed down the back of Bucky’s thigh. Bucky reached back to finish him, stroking
him until Steve shoved him away to fall back on the couch.
“You stink,” he gasped, chest heaving.
“Just making sure you finish good,” Bucky told him, sliding up next to Steve to
pull him close.
“I always finish good with you,” Steve said, brushing tired fingers through
Bucky’s hair.
“With me?” Bucky glanced over at him. “Who else you finishing with, Stevie?”
“Shut up,” Steve groaned. “You know what I mean.”
Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s flushed neck. “Oh, you mean it’s better with me
than when you jerk off?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes. Happy now?”
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Jerk,” Steve said, burrowing against him.
“Punk,” Bucky whispered, kissing his cheek and pulling the blanket up around
Steve.
“Mm-hmm.” Steve was already half asleep.
“You better put your shorts back on before your mom gets home,” Bucky warned.
“You do it,” Steve murmured sleepily, protesting when Bucky pulled away to do
just that. “‘m cold!”
“Then put your damn shorts on so I can climb back in,” Bucky told him. Steve
cooperated, holding out his arms for Bucky to come back once he was decent
again. Bucky made sure to pull his own pants back on before sliding into
Steve’s arms.
“Bucky,” Steve sighed, curling up against him, his head pillowed on his best
friend’s chest. Steve’s arms were wrapped tightly around him. Mine.
“Steve,” Bucky whispered, dropping a kiss on his forehead. I love you.
And though the words hung unspoken between them, somehow they still knew.
 
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