Chapter 1: Chapter One.
In all fairness, and if Bucky’s being honest with himself, it’s not that he particularly dislikes Sam. He doesn’t really have an opinion on the guy other than he’s good looking, kind of obnoxious, and apparently, a good friend of Steve’s. He came over for coffee and a movie the other day after Steve got of work. According to Steve, they worked together at the theater and Sam was funny and sweet, and he really wanted Bucky to meet him. If it wasn’t for the fact Bucky loved his stupid, blonde boyfriend to death, he probably would’ve argued.
What Bucky’s problem with Sam actually is, is he doesn’t trust him. He’s overly protective of Steve, he’s aware, and they’ve been going out for a year and a half by now. Since they moved, neither of them really have actual friends.
Bucky? He’s fine with that. It lets in less chances of someone hurting Steve. Which, okay, he’s always worried about to some degree, but that’s because Steve is shy, and always way too nice to everyone, he’s tiny–though the muscles on his arms and calves are definitely starting to become more pronounced–to both their delight. Bottom line, Steve is a sweetheart, and he’s spent almost four years dealing with judgment and harassment. At least until he met Bucky, because there was no way in hell he would let that slide. So, eventually, they moved out of the shit town they’d grown up in, to Brooklyn. Steve stayed with Bucky where they rented an apartment from Bucky’s crazy and unfathomably wealthy uncle, and Steve got a job at the movie theater. They started dating a few weeks after that.
Steve was generally resigned and quiet, and Bucky didn’t mind, but it seemed a little odd at times. Steve would start kissing Bucky, sit in his lap, even slip off Bucky’s shirt; but the second Bucky tried to reciprocate, he suddenly had work, or had to pee, or some other ridiculous excuse. Bucky had been completely confused and a little worried, until he walked in on Steve one morning as he was binding his chest, and suddenly it clicked.
Bucky had worked his ass off to learn as much as he could after that. He hadn’t been well educated on transgender folk at the time, now he was considered an expert. Jokingly. By Steve.
Either way, after working for several months non stop, he’d managed to get enough money for Steve to start testosterone around his birthday, and since then, Bucky had been helping to keep it all secret from work and most other people, and to give him his shots, since the sight of a needle made Steve practically faint.
So, sure, he’s a little concerned what might happen if Steve and Sam get too close and he finds out about Steve. He can’t help it. He isn’t sure how he’ll react, and he can’t stand the idea of Steve being hurt anymore.
“Maybe we can order pizza?” Steve asks from where he’s sitting on the couch, book folded in his lap. It successfully got Bucky’s attention back. He’s just across from the table Bucky’s seated at and he’s been watching Steve read more than he’s been writing his own paper. He’s talking about tomorrow. Because truly, it’s the only thing Steve’s spoken about all week. Sam’s coming back over tomorrow, for dinner, some drinks, a movie and maybe a game of poker. Steve’s beyond excited, practically bouncing off the walls of their apartment at the prospect. It’s probably just the idea that he actually has a friend that isn’t just his adoring boyfriend too.
At least Sam knows they’re together, and seems more than okay with it. Even went so far as to say they were a cute couple. Which, they totally are, but only Bucky gets to say that.
This was just another chance for Steve to slip up and for Bucky to get his hands around Sam’s throat, but he’d rather not. Besides, he can’t refuse Steve because he’s excited and smiling and talking non-stop about it. He’ll manage. The only problem presenting itself so far, is that Bucky has to give Steve his shot tomorrow. He’ll figure that out too.
“Yeah, pizza sounds fine,” Bucky nods, looking over at Steve. He’s frustrated with writing his paper, and he’s thinking way too much about tomorrow, so he shuts his laptop down and makes his way over to Steve. He flops down next to him and Steve smiles at him.
Steve nods quickly and starts scrawling down pizza toppings and crust. That’s just how he is, always planning everything out to the note. It’s admirable, and a quality Bucky doesn’t share. “One stuffed crust, with pepperoni, olives and jalapeños?” Steve smiles, looking at Bucky knowingly. Is he supposed to find his boyfriend remembering his pizza order endearing?
“You got it, punk,” Bucky confirms and smiles, resting his chin on Steve’s boney shoulder. He grins back at Bucky with that overly happy, lopsided grin he always gives him and finishes writing it down.
“What else should we get?”
Bucky thinks for a second and sighs. “Pan tossed–or whatever, that garlic sauce and chicken?” He suggests, because he knows Steve likes it, and Sam might too.
Steve makes a humming noise and scrawls that down too. “Always a good idea,” Steve says with a chuckle and Bucky rolls his eyes. He loves every second of it.
“What’s something sam would like?” Bucky only asks because it’s polite or whatever.
“Everyone likes Hawaiian, right?” Steve asks and he’s dead serious, because Bucky’s the kind of guy who dates someone who likes pineapple on pizza. Apparently.
Bucky scrunches up his nose in distaste and looks at him, like Steve might crack and start laughing. He just looks confused. “Like, pineapple and all?” He asks, and it physically pains him.
“Yeah, what else would it mean?” Steve asks, clearly confused and Bucky fake gags for emphasis.
“Who eats pizza with fruit on it?”
Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Um, me?” He answers simply and Bucky shakes his head in mock disappointment. Steve sighs, “Whatever, what about pepperoni?”
“Sounds good,” Bucky agrees, satisfied it’s not some abomination instead. He takes his pizza seriously.
Steve smiles down at his neat little list, setting it on the coffee table beside him. He leans against Bucky, until he’s practically sunken against his side and Bucky wraps an arm around him. He looks a little stressed, so Bucky strokes his hair and does his best to relax him.
“It’s gonna be great,” Bucky promises, kissing Steve’s temple.
“Positive,” Bucky affirms, twirling his finger around a piece of his blonde hair. It’s getting shaggy, not exactly long, but Bucky’s gonna have to trim it again soon. He’s amazed that after just a few months, Steve’s already more muscle and sharp edges instead of soft curves. He’s getting more hair too, just about everywhere, and it makes Steve giddy. Bucky loves how much Steve loves his body now, instead of loathes it.
Steve snuggles a little closer into Bucky’s side and sighs, looking up at him with an unsure expression. “You better not be lying,” he says seriously and Bucky snorts out a laugh.
They spend a good portion of the rest of the day snuggled up on their lumpy couch, talking and watching Grey’s Anatomy, which Steve’s become obsessed with. Around six, he makes a comment about being hungry, which reminds Bucky he never had any plans for dinner. They just make some fish sticks from the back of the freezer and call it good.
He’s completely in love with the little life they’ve started, even if it sounds corny as all hell, which Steve assures him it is. It’s domestic and simple. Money wise, they’re just scraping by, but Bucky writes papers for the local news paper in between his home life and working at a local diner. They both work extra hours when they need. It works out fine.
They watch some ridiculous zombie movie after dinner and Steve’s practically asleep sitting up half way through. “Bed time?” Bucky suggests but Steve shakes his head. His always gotta be so stubborn. It’s obvious he’s tired, but for some unknown reason, he’s determined to finish a movie they’ve both only been half paying attention to.
“C'mon Stevie, I’ll cuddle you and everything,” Bucky hums, and Steve lets out a noise he can only really call a giggle.
He looks up at Bucky with wide eyes. “Cuddles and everything?” Steve questions, mostly jokingly.
Steve nods slowly, like he’s weighing the options. “You drive a hard bargain,” he says finally, flopping himself over Bucky. “Carry me.”
“Carry yourself, asshole,” Bucky grunts, shoving Steve, which doesn’t actually move him much.
Steve remains sprawled out over Bucky, looking at him from his awkward, upside down position. “But my asshole needs carrying,” Steve says with a giggle. Bucky’s going to make a law that he shouldn’t ever let Steve get hyper, which happens mostly when he’s way too tired.
Bucky sighs and heaves himself up, toppling Steve over onto the couch. “Alright, fine, c'mon,” he says and picks Steve up, practically slinging him over his shoulder. Steve slumps over easily and lets him drag him to their shared bedroom. There’s two bedrooms in the house, but the second ones empty, and downstairs. They just pretend it’s a guest bedroom, even though they’ve never had anyone spend more than an hour over.
Bucky sets Steve on the bed and he curls into a ball, tugging the covers up over himself before Bucky can even suggest pajamas. Apparently he’s realized how tired he is. Bucky just strips down to his boxers and climbs in beside Steve and pulls his boyfriend against his chest. “Chest binder,” Bucky reminds softly. Steve whines but puts his arms up, in what’s supposed to be a helpful gesture. He slips Steve’s tank top off easily, tossing it onto the floor where he discarded his own clothes. He can see a few marks where the binder has been slowly cutting into his ribs, leaving puffy, red stripes. He rubs the pad of his thumb over them gently but it doesn’t seem to hurt so he lets it go for now.
He hates the binder, mostly because he doesn’t like the idea of Steve suffocating himself to death, especially with his asthma. It’s also because it’s a pain in the ass to get off, for both of them. He understands though, completely, and he’ll always support Steve; he just wishes he could get him top surgery already.
He fights quietly with the tiny clips on the side until he has them all undone. They’re just there to make sure it stays closed, a kind of extra support, but they’re always painfully tight and hard to get off.
Bucky smiles softly down at Steve. He’s on his side, the covers curled around his waist. He’s awake still, just laying quietly, looking at the far wall while Bucky undresses him. It’s oddly intimate. Even a year ago, Steve would have never let him do this, or sleep undressed around him. It shows Steve’s progress and the trust Bucky’s earned. “Sit up a little?” Bucky asks softly. He just has to slip it over his head and it’s over, and he can curl around Steve’s body and kiss and admire every inch of him.
Steve pushes himself up so his back is to Bucky and he lifts his arms up again, a little more lazily. He looks half asleep sitting up.
Bucky hurries up a little, slipping it over his head and folding it neatly, before setting it on their nightstand. It’s a pain in the ass to get wrinkles out of. He wraps his arms around Steve’s middle and he makes a moody whine.
“Oh hush, you’re perfect,” Bucky grumbles back, slowly laying himself down onto the bed, dragging Steve with him. He ends up curled against Bucky’s frame, face against the side of his rib cage.
“Not yet,” Steve mumbles, and he doesn’t think so, but Bucky thinks he’s perfect just the way he is. He looks at him, breasts and all, and sees Steve Rogers. His boyfriend. He understands why he and Steve and don’t quite see eye to eye on this topic.
“Soon,” Bucky offers back with a soft kiss to Steve’s cheek.
They lay quietly together with Bucky running his fingers through Steve’s hair until they both slowly drift off.
By time Bucky wakes up again, it’s already fairly late. Much later than he was expecting. He rolls over and rubs his eyes tiredly, but Steve isn’t there. It’s not too surprising, Steve’s always been a morning person where Bucky just isn’t. He makes himself get out of bed with a groan, throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt and heading to the kitchen.
Steve’s already munching on a piece of toast, reading a book at the table. He’s got those stupid, huge glasses on that he wears when he’s reading because really, his eyesight is shit. He’s got a mug of coffee in front of him, still steaming so he probably made it recently. He’s got the creamer out too but he hasn’t added it, probably won’t, because he’s a freak and he likes it black.
“Morning,” he says, voice gruff. He wanders over and pours himself a large cup of coffee, practically to the brim. He’s a coffee kind of person, he’s not sure how anyone makes it through the day without it.
Steve smiles at him, setting his book down on the table. “Morning, sleepy head,” Steve teases. Bucky rolls his eyes. He’s already dressed, in a navy blue, button down he got a few weeks ago and khakis. He looks cute. “Sam’s gonna be over soon.”
Right, Sam. Bucky smiles a little and nods, sipping at his coffee as he sits across from Steve at the table. “What needs to be done?” As far as Bucky’s concerned, nothing needs to be done, it’s just a friend coming over, so doesn’t get the big deal. Steve always plans everything out to the max, though. He adds a generous amount of cream to his coffee.
“I just wanna make sure I’m not forgetting anything,” Steve says, worrying his lip between his teeth. He’s got a list on the table next to his book. List of food and everything else.
“I got all the food yesterday,” Bucky assures with a smile. “And I cleaned the bathroom.”
Bucky smiles. “Like I would forget that,” he jokes and Steve chuckles. Steve’s a lightweight, practically stripping naked and singing at the top of his lungs after two drinks, so getting him drunk is shamefully one of Bucky’s favorite things.
“And we have all the pizza ready to be ordered? Dishes done?”
“Check and check,” Bucky assures again.
Steve’s reading over the list again, like he’s missing something, and Bucky’s about to tell him to relax and that everything’s in order, but then someone’s ringing the doorbell and yep, that’s gotta be Sam. Bucky was kinda hoping he got stuck in traffic.
Steve looks at Bucky with wide eyes and grins, getting up quickly. He looks like a kid on Christmas. He follows Steve to the door, folding his arms over his chest. He feels like he has to maintain an intimidating appearance around the guy, at least for a while, until he decides if he likes him or not.
Steve yanks the door open and Sam’s standing on the porch holding a Walmart sack and wearing a smug grin. “Hey, man.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Steve asks as he takes the bag from him, he’s still grinning as he steps aside to let him into the house. Bucky would have to be blind not to see how nice Sam’s clothes are, expensive looking. The guy himself looks, expensive. He’s well dressed, well groomed, and has a smile like a million dollars. As usual, Steve has good taste.
“Alright. The ride over here, it was great, actually,” Sam comments as he walks in. He grins when he looks at Bucky, like he just hadn’t noticed a six foot tall guy, glaring holes into him, standing right next to Steve the whole time. “Hey, what’s up?”
Bucky doesn’t answer, mostly because Sam’s already walked past him and has moved on to rambling about some customer he dealt with last night.
Thankfully, everything settles down after Sam’s done with his story, and it’s a little more comfortable. Overall? Bucky’s tolerating him so far. He orders the pizza, so it’ll get to the apartment in a little over a half hour, if they’re lucky. Sam and Steve are in the kitchen too, opening up three beers as they talk. Bucky has no problem pushing himself into the conversation as he slides between them, grabbing his opened beer from next to Steve.
“Thanks,” he says, pecking Steve’s cheek. When he pulls away, Sam’s grinning at them in a way that’s actually fairly disturbing.
“Cute,” he says, slowly taking a drink of his beer. He’s leaning into the counter, dripping with both confidence and sincerity. Steve’s bright red, avoiding eye contact with both of them now. Sam and Bucky share a small grin.
Bucky’s opinion of Sam? Decent.
Chapter 2: Chapter Two
More Sam and a touch of angst.
They’re sprawled out on their sectional couch in the living room with the lights almost all off, pizza in one hand and beer in the other, while a movie plays in the background over their talking. There’s two pizza boxes on the floor and several more on the coffee table Sam and Bucky both currently have their feet up on. To Sam’s shock, Steve’s packed away the most food so far. Bucky knows him too well to be surprised.
Steve, he eats like a pig. He can put away twice as much as Bucky can, especially for his overall weight and size. He put on a decent amount of weight just to start T, and even now he’s still skinny. The Testosterone has really only made his apatite increase too, which is fairly common.
“Gonna leave any for the guest?” Bucky questions with a chuckle when Steve reaches over for another piece of pizza. Sam snorts and Steve glares at both of them right before stuffing half the piece into his mouth. Point made.
“Guess not,” Sam sighs, he’s smiling though and clearly joking. Sam’s on his second beer, and Bucky’s got his second open, he just hasn’t started on it yet. Thankfully, Steve’s still sipping at his first.
They’re currently watching ‘The Blair Witch Project’, because Bucky opened his fat mouth about it being a rip off of every other horror movie just like it. He’s learning to keep his mouth shut around not just one, but two cinema fanatics. So yeah, now they’re busy proving him wrong, and yes he now knows it was the first hand held, documentary type horror film of its kind. Let alone to be shown in theater.
It’s a good movie, he likes it and they’re paying attention for the most part, when they aren’t caught up in a sudden and pointless conversation.
It’s getting late, dark out by now and the street lights are on outside their large living room window, illuminating the hardwood floor. Honestly, Bucky’s pretty well sidetracked, between the food and beer, the movie playing in front of him, he’s relaxed. It’s not until his phone, sitting on the arm rest right next to him lights up with a small buzz, showing a little reminder on his screen, that he remembers what he’s forgotten.
Time to make a man out of Steve ;)
Fuck, there’s no subtle way to bring it up with Sam right next to Steve. Steve’s too engrossed in the movie to even look at Bucky, so he has no clue what he’s going to do. He actually thinks about just whispering it to him, but the both of them suddenly excusing themselves in the middle of a movie for seemingly no reason? It’s a little suspicious. He can’t say anything upfront either, he would never do that to Steve.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sam says after a long drink from his beer. He’s smiling though, so he’s probably not being serious. It gets Steve’s attention regardless.
“Work stuff,” Bucky says awkwardly, which is such bullshit and everyone knows it.
Steve looks utterly confused. “Work? Is everything okay?” Steve asks. He’s frowning, looking like a guilty puppy.
“Yeah, uh, can I talk to you?” He uses the excuse anyways, it’ll work and he’s not seeing any other chances coming up. “Alone?”
Steve’s still frowning at him, and Sam’s expression is a carbon copy. Steve nods, glancing at Sam with a apologetic look.
“Hey man, it’s fine. I’ll be here getting the last of the pizza while I still can,” he grins, winking at them as Bucky stands up.
“Thanks,” Bucky says before he heads out of the room, towards the stairs. Steve gets up, he hears him say something to Sam before he’s hurrying after Bucky. They could have gone into the hall if they just needed to talk, but if he’s going to give him his shot, they have to be in their bedroom. Which yeah, it draws slightly more attention to the issue, since its all the way upstairs, but it’ll work.
“Buck, what’s wrong?” Steve asks again as he follows after Bucky. He looks like ten different kinds of worried, it’s a pitiful look on him, one he hasn’t had to see since they moved.
“Time for your shot,” Bucky answers as he closes the door behind Steve.
Steve makes a noise, not quite a gasp but it’s an excited noise. “I almost completely forgot,” he says, looking at Bucky with a small grin. “smooth by the way– downstairs?”
Bucky rolls his eyes, grinning briefly as he goes over to the cabinet that their TV sits on and pulls out the little cooler box they keep the sharps container and shots in. “You’re welcome.”
Steve chuckles. He sits on the edge of their bed and the springs creak underneath his shifting weight as he struggles to get his pants down around his ankles. He’s nervously messing with a stray string coming off his boxers while Bucky readies the injection. He always gets himself worked up, he has to shut his eyes so he won’t see the needle and send himself into a panic attack. He’s gotten a little better, but he still can’t do it himself or even watch.
“Ready?” Bucky asks as he crouches down in front of Steve. He’s holding the needle out of sight for Steve’s sake. He looks a little pale and he’s bouncing his knee but he nods anyways.
“Just hurry?” He asks nervously, rubbing his knuckles. “Sam’s waiting.”
Bucky smiles and pecks his lips quickly. “Alright, close your eyes, we’ll do it on three.” He says, putting his free hand on Steve’s other leg, rubbing it comfortingly as he wipes the injection sight with rubbing alcohol. The smell hits them both at roughly the same time and Steve breathes out sharply. It’s been almost four and a half months since he’s started hormones and he still manages to get himself worked up every time. Bucky got over the initial panic that came with stabbing your boyfriend with a needle after the second time he gave it to him.
Bucky gives Steve’s leg a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, deep breathes.”
“Okay, yeah,” Steve hisses, trying to make his breathing a little less strained.
“One,” Bucky says softly as he airs off the last of the rubbing alcohol and checks the needle for any bubbles or clouding. There’s none, of course, but it’s important to check. “Two,” he taps the side and Steve squirms a little in anticipation. He panics if he goes too fast, but he hates when Bucky takes too long, so far there hasn’t been a happy medium. “Okay, deep breath, and three.”
He pokes the needle into the meat of Steve’s thigh and slowly lets the liquid empty. Steve holds his breath even despite Bucky’s advice, but at least it’s over.
“There. All done,” Bucky promises as he pulls the needle out and tosses it into the sharps container. Steve opens his eyes to look, instead he looks behind Bucky over his shoulder and his mouth just sort of hangs open.
“Shit, this isn’t the bathroom, huh?” Sam says from the doorway and Bucky stands up immediately. He looks at Sam sternly, standing in front of Steve in an instant like it might shield him. It only does a little.
“Get out,” Bucky snaps and Sam puts his hands up in surrender.
“Hey man, it was just an accident, for real,” Sam says, brow furrowing. He backs up slightly more into the doorway than before regardless.
Steve makes a small noise of disapproval and tugs Bucky’s shirt from behind but he ignores it. This exactly what he was trying to avoid. “Get out.”
“Bucky, please–it’s too late,” Steve says pathetically and Bucky’s stomach clenches. He feels so fucking bad. Why couldn’t he lock a door? It should’ve been common sense.
Meanwhile, Sam’s hovering like he isn’t quite sure what he’s supposed to do. Bucky sighs heavily and folds his arms over his chest. It’s a move he knows for a fact is fairly intimidating.
“Just come in, it’s…fine,” Steve says, still clutching the back of Bucky’s shirt. Steve sounds far from fine himself, he sounds scared and upset. He has every right to be. With the situation, with Bucky.
Sam nods, walks in all the way and shuts the door behind him. He’s apparently more intelligent than Bucky’s been giving him credit for though, because he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t say word. He stays silent, staring at them blankly.
“If you say a god damn word-”
“Bucky,” Steve frowns, standing up and tugging his pants back onto his hips. He steps to the side, so Bucky’s no longer covering him. He’s not terribly happy about that, because now he isn’t really doing much to protect him, or much of anything really, but he lets Steve speak for himself.
He doesn’t say anything though, he’s looking at Sam waiting for the questions he’s sure will come.
“You’re uh, so you’re a girl?” Sam asks, and he’s blatantly aware he’s walking on thin ice. Bucky’s about ready to snap the guy’s neck. The worst part, is he looks genuinely confused, like he’s actually not sure. How fucking dumb can you be?
Bucky practically growls, “No, he’s not a girl.” Is this asshole serious right now? He looks serious. Bucky can’t fathom the idiocy it takes to assume, after everything, that Steve is a girl.
Steve sighs, his lip is pink and a little puffy from where he’s been biting and pulling at it for the majority of the conversation. He’s considerably calmer than Bucky, and it’s probably because he’s dealt with this before, but that just makes him even more angry. He shouldn’t have to. “I’m a guy, I’m trans,” Steve responds simply, and he puts it in a way that’s sweet and fairly blatant, while he’s still leaving room for question. He’s not sure how Steve does it.
A little lightbulb might as well appear over Sam’s head, judging by the way his eyes light up in understanding. Fucking finally. “So like,” he pauses, looking at Steve like he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but Steve nods at him to continue. He’s pointedly not looking at Bucky, by the way, which is even more annoying. “Born female? But, you’re a dude?”
Steve actually laughs, “yeah, pretty much.” He looks hopeful, like he’s practically praying Sam’s going to understand and actually accept it. It makes Bucky’s stomach get knots in it, because Steve deserves all the acceptance in the world, even from this moron.
Sam nods again. “Okay,” he says simply and Bucky’s going to scream. Okay? That’s what he has to say?
Sam snorts, shrugging. “Yeah, that’s okay. I’ve always known you as Steve, so, you’re Steve,” Sam says like it’s the obvious answer. It should be, but it isn’t always.
Bucky’s a little more relaxed, but his guard is still on high.
“Thank you,” Steve smiles, Sam shoves his hands in his pockets and nods with a small smile.
“Yeah, I had to pause the damn movie for you two though, you were taking forever.”
Bucky glares at him, because really? “I was giving my boyfriend a fucking testosterone shot,” he says incredulously.
“Bucky, it’s okay, relax,” Steve smiles. He turns and stands in front of him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s middle. He lets him because it’s his Steve, and he can do whatever he wants as far as he’s concerned.
“I don’t see him lining up to jab metal and liquid into you,” Bucky grumbles back. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair while pointedly glaring at Sam over his shoulder.
“The shot? I can, next time,” Sam offers like it’s seriously no big deal.
Steve grins at Bucky, looking up the little ways he has to in order to make eye contact. “Not happening,” Bucky says flatly and Sam grins. It’s a challenged sort of look regardless.
“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” Sam responds with a smirk.
The way Bucky sees it, since he’s been putting up with Sam all day, the witty comments, idiocy, and overall stress, he better get laid later.